Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Only after disaster can we be resurrected...

Today I found something out the hard way:

Some people are good, others are mean and the rest are just plain damn crazy.

Over the last few weeks I've seemed to be taking the proper steps to true happiness and success and today was a devastating reminder of how far I still must go in order to be true to myself, and never has that been more clear than this afternoon as my mind spun with horror and excuses and "NOT ME!"s. My different sides were at war; one side was all for sacrificing anything in my way and doing whatever I had to do in order to survive financially. Another side was resilient and sad, but willing to scrape together my pride and self-respect in order to sleep at night. What was this destructive event spurring my emotive transport back in time?

Well, I got fired.

It was pleasant, I think. I assume that employment termination can get much nastier than mine did, and I feel blessed. It was a simple, "Yadda yadda yadda... and you realize what this means, yes?" conversation and I caught onto the principle fairly quickly that my dreams of a second chance in life had just been doused in gasoline and set afire by an unknowing and sweet HR representative. Did I cry?

OHHHH YEAH. It wasn't a sobbing plea, or a single delicate tear, but somewhere in the middle. It came and went like a summer rainstorm where it quickly clouds up, pours moisture and then clears again.... All within a ten minute time period.

Why did I get fired? Oh well... Yes, I suppose you deserve to know. I failed to disclose a criminal history on my application and a certain 'someone' (that no one will tell me the name of) went and tattled on me that I did indeed have a few skeletons in the closet. It's my fault for not trusting in the goodness of humanity and at the same time, truly believing that no one would want to hurt me. I got hurt, I got in trouble and I was fired. But the funniest thing about it, I think?

I don't have to work on Christmas.

Will I be broke as fuck and having a miserable, gift-less Christmas because of no full-time job? Yes. But will I be spending that miserable time with the ones I love most? ABSOLUTELY. What is there not to love? And hey, whoever said paid training is overrated, they were certainly wrong. I have a new skill set, a new resolve, and a reason to succeed... Just because I can.

I'm okay, really. Life goes on, I screw up regularly and I doubt that will ever change.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Acute Happiness Overload...

September and October have been interesting months, to say the least. I returned from a business trip at the beginning of September to find out my blood work had returned mostly clean, semi-healthy and getting stronger every day. I felt great; strong, healthy and happy. I have been shedding fat through my cardio and weight training regimens, followed closely by regular yoga and it has been regulating my blood sugar and white blood cell counts in ways that drugs and hospital visits never did.

Two weeks after a successful trip, a great work weeks and healthy habits, Brian proposed and we set a date, two years out from the 26th of September (the anniversary of when we met). Our parents were overjoyed, I was a little punch drunk and Brian and I both began planning furiously while we looked at rings, houses and furniture... Although all of the celebration was fun and included a ski movie premier and a good friend's birthday party, it was premature: Our lease on our apartment is up and we're looking for a new place.

While frustratingly difficult, it's beginning to teach me things I have never really understood up to this point.

- Money is really, really, really useful.
- Bills suck.
- Health issues suck balls.
- Very rarely, we find someone who makes us so happy we couldn't imagine living without them and we rejoice everyday when we wake up next to them.

That last realization is the most important part. For a pessimistic asshole who believed that love was for the weak minded, I sure did fall hard.

Totally abstract post... Let's spell random!

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Healthy choices...

After a summer of working my ass off, the damn thing has returned. Not quite as big or as bad as it was, it's still threatening to take me down the slippery slope into self-destruct mode and back through horrible eating/exercising habits.  I saw it coming as I continued to stress, eat and drink my way through tough business trips while letting my workout motivation go to shit... and there is no one to blame but myself. ALAS! There is hope, in the form of a website; ironically, it does not promise to help you melt the fat off, it is simply there to keep a person on track and make goals and challenges visible, as long as you keep the website open all day. 

Thursday, July 23, 2009


This is where I live...

Blog, blahg, bloggity blaaaaahg...

I've recently been thinking about the purpose of my blog -- along with the purpose of blogs in the first place. Your blog, a company blog, family blogs; hell, even my friend's dog has a blog (that she updates for him, of course - I've never seen a dog type)!

Do we write and update our blogs because we believe that we are the authority on writing? Do we write because we think that only we have the ability to inform everyone? Do we write because we truly understand that everyone else wants to know about our daily goings on? Or am I writing because I simply enjoy the pleasure of re-reading my own words, over and over again; like hearing myself speak? 

Does that make me an asshole?

I enjoy calling them 'blahgs' because sometimes I feel that's all we do: BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. About EVERYTHING! For instance, I was at the gym a few days back and working out on the treadmill (with my music blaring at deafening tones, mind you). A young lady about my same age climbed onto the machine next to me and began her workout... fine and dandy, right? Unfortunately, about three to 3 1/2 minutes into her routine she became bored and decided it would be completely appropriate to pick up her cell phone, call a friend and proceed to scream about boyfriend/work/friend/shopping/eating/workout/family/blah, blah blah ISSUES for close to forty minutes. 

Talk about information overload. Keep in mind that I had 30 Seconds To Mars' Beautiful Lie and Pat Benatar turned up and could STILL overhear her ranting on and on. I now understand that she's a compulsive shop-a-holic with a scary something or other going on 'down there' that she may or may not have gotten from her lousy boyfriend who may or may not be cheating on her with a co-worker who's a solid 'frenemie' who may or may not be judging her because she has family issues out the wahzoo... WHAT THE HELL?? 

Who on earth discusses OB-GYN appointments with friends, let alone in PUBLIC? I was shocked -- and not by her obviously open take on sexuality, but her brazen lack of manners and the narcissistic way she projected herself to the entire health club. 

This is all too common behavior within our generation and the constant state of availability to self-updating is only making it worse, I believe. Who else brazenly self-promotes 24/7? Certainly not my mother or my father. Definitely not my grandparents. I doubt they know what Twitter is! Personally, I have no idea how the hell to use it or what its purpose is. Who on earth would possibly care what I'm up to, every minute of every day?  

Whatever happened to the self-respect? What happened to the humility aspect of society? We're all self-made celebrities. When did we collectively decide that privacy was overrated? Or that we're entitled to every tidbit of someone's personal life? Isn't that why it's called a PERSONAL LIFE?? Where did the mystery of getting to know someone go? How is it possible that people Google each other after meeting once? We're losing something, and it's a very big something. We're losing the excitement of investing time in relationships -- business, friends, family, romantic... it's all becoming far too instant and far too shallow. How many real, true FRIENDS do you have? How many 'friends' (Facebook, Myspace, Twitter, yadda yadda yadda) do you have? When was the last time you had a 'girls night out' instead of connecting via your preferred social networking site? How long has it been since we picked up the phone and called someone, just to talk? Or shared a meal that wasn't a 'power' ____ ? I say, fuck the power lunches and the instant gratification of friend requesting someone. I say we all go back to the basics of being true human beings. I say we eschew the current socio-political status and invest our time in each other and creating something offline.

Hold on, I'll start the relationship revolution after I check my Facebook and return some emails. Cool? 

Thursday, May 28, 2009

My meditation is back on track...

...literally. I took my first 'proud' run in a while last night and was so exhausted and so happy. Every stress in my life took a back seat for a while as I basked in the utter joy of having hit the wall again. To the non-runner, "the WALL" is a physical and mental state of complete fatigue to the point where you stop functioning. It's a scary, mean spot to find and extremely difficult to move past and tends to make one feel like a complete failure. 

Anyway, I hit the wall and started walking home, about three miles away. I was tired, thirsty and burnt out on this whole 're-try' effort, but somewhere between Kid Cudi's "Day n' Night" and Elton John's "Still Standing", a light came on. Everything I've given up, everything I've lost, everyone I've hurt off in the last few years came flooding back to me and it was impossible to keep walking... and I began bouncing on my toes. Then came a slow but forward calf-run followed by me stepping back into pace, grinning like a five year old. I hit the wall and moved past it, emotionally and physically, and ran the entire way home. I'm stiff this morning, but nothing compares to the serious effort it takes to put one foot in front of the other and just....keep......going....

And the utter thrill of finishing something.

It probably seems small to anyone but me. It must look insignificant compared to a larger task.  That's okay, because I know better. Coming out of a stressful and aggravating day to completely smash my own preconceptions gave me not just the will to take things head on, but the courage to look inside and question some of my own failings... and successes. To be proud of myself in a very, very, very long time is big thing. To move past my recent accidents and injuries and hospital visits and emotional issues to grin and throw my hands in the air is a big deal and a gratifying milestone. To know that I can push myself again is liberating.

To love myself again, for what I am and what I have the potential to be... is indescribable. 

Monday, May 25, 2009

Mud Season in Park City

With the sunny days and warm weather increasing, it's refreshing to know that the infamous 'Mud Season' in Park City has almost come to an end...I think. This will be my first summer living in town and while I absolutely love the complex beauty that is this small mountain town, the sunny but mostly cool days seem endless in April and May. The weather plays the coquettish child, her momentary reprieves filled with balmy days and tranquil nights before dashing our hopes with continuous rain and thunderstorms. It leaves the local grasses and foliage lushly green and the trees in what seems to be eternal bloom, but eternal bloom is pleasant only so long as one can enjoy it.

The challenge is finding something to do while passing the time that won't leave your waistband tighter and your wallet empty. As an active adult with a self-diagnosed attention disorder, I've struggled with becoming an 'indoor person'; I consider cabin fever to be a serious affliction and generally cope with boredom by heading outdoors on the bike, for a run or some other form of physical entertainment. Unfortunately, with the obstacles of an empty local population and repetitive hobbies, I've grown frustrated that a spring routine just isn't as simple as a winter one. For me the cold and icy winter months means early retirings, dawn risings and days spent on exhausting hikes and descents from the highest peaks to be found locally. Even a relatively 'easy' day would be hiking the park, exploring the resort and secret spots, or navigating dense timberlines at top speeds to find the last stash of a storm. Post-shred is making a heavy meal of whatever can be found in a house full of hungry athletes and passing out for the night. The next day? Repeat... this song is one that lasts for five months of the year. With spring's arrival and a slow economy, a certain disastrous recipe is created: no job in a small mountain town = no money and nothing to do. Mix in a heavy refusal to own or drive a car for Mother Earth's sake and you end up bored, broke and lonely. 

So until the warm weather calls for the opening of the farmer's markets and the resorts, town will stay empty, businesses will stay closed and I will stay inside, reading and writing. 

Sunday, May 17, 2009


Most of these blogs are old entries written and submitted on my MySpace, which is no more as I've grown up and realized that Facespace is the way of the future. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed learning from writing them. 


my untimely demise by lack of brain function...

earlier this morning (or late last evening, whichever is prefferable), i was given the opportunity to view a film with two fairly new aquaintences whose company i rather enjoy. we congregated and then proceeded to discuss exactly what we wished to subject ourselves to as far as watching something.

the movie 'jacket' with adrian brodie and keira knightly was our final choice and we began the film. those of you who have seen it know that it opens with an interesting quote -- one 
that immediately had me pondering over the complexities of life. "the first time i died i was 27. it was white everywhere and there was noise and something in the back of my mind needed escape."
for those of you who have not yet seen this, go rent it and come back.

so we're sitting there and i'm thinking, and my mind instantaneously goes to a time i  thought i was dying. i had actually just barely cut my finger, but for a five year old, it's traumatic. and i'm sitting here remembering watching my finger bleed and thinking, oh god, what happens when people die? i didn't scream or anything. i distinctly remember just sitting there, calm as can be, but worried that i was kicking my final can. of course, i didn't do anything about it, but i was scared that i wouldn't know where to go once i died. we're taught about the white light and angels and st. peter and all that bullshit, but i was still pretty worried. and then my next thought was, what will mom and dad do if i die? that's another sad story for another pathetically late night, but i moved away from that thought quickly. i honestly can tell you i have no idea how long i sat by the huge wooden island in my aunt's kitchen pondering my untimely death, but it kind of fascinated me. fascinated me, that is, until my eldest brother came in and saw i was bleeding profusely and then he thought i was going to die and i started to cry and.....oh god.

so back to my movie. i'm sitting here, picturing myself bleeding as a child, listening to the movie's script and i wonder --- do some of us really have the ability to come back? what if, as a kid, i actually had died because i was stupidly playing with knives? would i be given the chance to come back and relive it, albeit vicariously, through a spiritual sense? would whoever makes those descisions let me still be a kid because hell, i was just one stupid kid? or would they keep me up there?

so i'm thinking all of this and kind of being dazed as i stare at the screen and watch as the story line unfolds to reveal whatever, blah blah blah. is one soul more important than another? who decides? is how we die more important than what we will learn from dying? do others truly care when we die? or is their suffering stemming from the fact that they lost something? does every person we come in contact with have a connection to the last? are we supposed to learn from every small thing? or does shit just happen? like death? like someone getting nailed by a milk truck on his way to buy cigarettes? are we spots in a dark sky and some of us lights up but the majority will never be seen? those of us who are alone --- are we truly alone? some of us have family, some of us don't. but are family and friends what make us who we are? when we die are we still alone?

which goes back to the tree question -- if a tree falls and there is no one around to hear it, does it really make a sound?

when we're dying, is there really a white light? or is that theory some shady spot of shit someone told us so we wouldn't be scared when we were lost? do we cry when we die? or do we smile? is it important to kiss people's asses so that when we die and we're talking to the person in line ahead of us, we're like, "oh yeah. i was nice."? or do we do what we want, hurting others but eventually making ourselves happy? or vice versa? so when i die, can i come back? i'm not scared, i just want to know.............

see? i'm so messed up right now.......and i have a class at 8 am i'm never going to be up for. but i still have questions.

does anyone know how to get a hold of god?

nude photography.

first off, let me begin by explaining to my more uneducated audiences that no, i am NOT a porn photographer and no, it does NOT sexually excite me to shoot nudes. the photos placed in this profile are not to be disrespected in any way. period. if you do not approve, move on. if you are sick, deranged and enjoy viewing them because of the masturbatory possibilities, go shoot yourselves in the head. if it is simply not your choice or style of photography or art, thank you and have a nice day.

that said, 
i believe that the human body -- both in it's entirety and parts separate -- is an amazing work of art in and of itself. it is to be revered, pondered and learned of. there is no such thing as an ugly body; beauty simply occasionally escapes the human eye.

artist connecting with a subject always happens; there must be some connection, i believe, else there would be no relevant point in photos. that emotion may make things difficult for any photographer because of multiple reasons, including the root of it, but this same intense feeling is what drives us to shoot.

the need to capture and portray is what defines something between art and trash. i believe it is the respect and love of life, not only for ourselves, but for what we, as artists, can give our viewers. it is us opening the door to understanding and knowledge and exposing the beauty of the everyday; the living, breathing soul music that is defined by our listening to the body's lyrics and putting them into an effort more tangible than passing glance alone can capture. nude photography is giving power of expression to a subject that normally could be stagnant or even fairly mundane under other circumstances. boring, never.  difficult to comprehend, yes, but never boring. we try to show the world in pictures what cannot be explained through words and allow others to form their own opinions and feelings about what we are displaying.

i feel we are the eyes to a silent tale of glory whose illumination has been postponed until now. we are the interpretation of a language that has never been written. through proper technique and careful handling, there is vast insight into the prowess never achieved until the discovery of the nude human form on canvas. 

so i began taking pictures to express this ample emotion i could not explain. an extension of my heart.

One is the loneliest number of all, eh??

Actually, no, it's not.

I was just saying that to see how you'd react. To see if you'd disagree with me, or if you'd nod that yeah, come to think of it, one 
is the loneliest number. You've been solo before, you were thinking, and boy did that ever suck big time. Christ, remember the last time you broke up with that special someone? You puttered around the house uselessly for weeks, forgetting to shower, forgetting to eat, before finally pulling yourself together only because your friends threatened to send a search party out for you. You played "Miss You" over and over until you knew the words better than Jagger himself. How pathetic was that?

So lonely? My god, yeah. One was the loneliest number of all time.

But I don't agree with the statement at all. I was just tossing the concept out there to disprove it. Because, you know, that's what people 
want you to believe. There's a whole rotten little pack of them that want you to think that if you don't have a partner, someone to have and to hold, someone to call your own, then you're shit out of luck when it comes to being happy. I don't buy that at all.

Here is what I think: One is only as lonely as you let it be. If you've got an ounce of creativity in yourself, then one can be plenty fun. One can be a frigging five-alarm party in my opinion. Jesus, one can often make you come even better than two can. Why? Because one is 
you, and you know yourself. Tell me I'm lying if you dare. You know I'm not. You know how to touch yourself -- sure, it's always fun to have a fresh set of hands going crazy. But when the newness wears off, you're left with someone who'll never handle the merchandise as well as you can.

This is why I'm such an avid masturbator, whether I'm enchanted with some lucky son of a bitch, or whether I'm going solo style in an all-about-my-freedom phase. The truth is this: I can't keep my hands off me. That's a fact. I'm sexy as all hell. And 
that's a fact, too. I know it. I know all about how irresistible I can be....believe me. And really, I wouldn't have it any other way, because when it comes right down to the nitty gritty, it's all going to be there, right at your core, you and you alone. This way, I figure I'm more familiar with myself both mentally and physically and when it's at the worst, I'll at least have me. So yeah, call it an excuse, call it silly, call it just plain hot and bothered or whatever you want to call it. Because at least I'm being honest about it...alone or not alone.

And because one is all you need.

Loneliest number? Not by a long shot. Not even close.

259 Things You Didn't Really Want To Know About Mandy...

(1) Your gender: female
(2) Straight/gay/bi?:straight
(3) Single?: yesh, thank you.
(4) Want to be?: yerp.
(5) Your birth day: april 26
(6) Age you act: depends on how inebriated i am, or am not.
(7) Age you wish you were:....i like this.
(8) Your height: 5' 7"
(9) The color of your eyes: brown
(10) Happy with it?: yep
(11) The color of your hair: blondish brown.
(12) Happy with it?: hell yeah.
(13) Left/right/ambidextrous?: right 
(14) Your living arrangement?: studio living, alone...sometimes not.
(27) Your family: is amazing.
(29) What's your job: professional bum. 
(30) Piercings?: ears, nose.
(31) Tattoos?: arm and soon to be side piece.
(32) Obsessions?: snow and laffy taffy.
(35) Do you speak another language? pig latin
(36) Have a favorite quote?: "YOU! Shut the FUCK UP!"
(37) Do you have a webpage?: facebook

DEEP THOUGHTS about life and you in it:

(38) Do you live in the moment?: too much sometimes
(39) Do you consider yourself tolerant of others? i'm actually pretty mellow unless they're stupid or assholes.
(40) Do you have any secrets?: just a few ;)
(41) Do you hate yourself?: not really, but disappointed? yeah, especially when i make myself look like an ass.
(42) Do you like your handwriting?: i write in all caps, its easy.
(43) Do you have any bad habits?: only one, i guess -- being me. 
(44) What is the compliment you get most from people?: oh, i just get loads and loads...everybody wants to tell me SOMETHING good about me. ha.
(45) If a movie was made about your life, what would it be called?: "sarcasm and the nature of hate."
(47) Can you sing?: i can, but i shouldn't.
(48) Do you ever pretend to be someone else just to look cool?: nah, that's played.
(49) Are you a loner?: most of the time.
(51) If you were another person, would you be friends with you?: hell yeah.
(52) Are you a daredevil?: yeah.
(53) Is there anything you fear or hate about yourself?: one.
(54) Are you passive or aggressive?: depends.
(55) Have you got a ?: to who? god, my parents, the world, mr. bush, terje, cj?
(56) What is your greatest strength and weaknesses?: i'm awesome, and.....i'm awesome.
(57) If you could change one thing about yourself?: yeah -- my unwillingness to control my passions.
(58) There are three wells, love, beauty and creativity, which one do you choose?: all three, just because i can.
(59) How do you vent?: i run.
(60) Do you think you are emotionally strong?: i'm doing okay.
(61) Is there anything you regret doing/not doing in life?: not a damn thing.
(62) Do you think life has been good so far?: yerp.
(63) What is the most important lesson you've learned from life?: people suck, and people are awesome -- who you associate with is your choice, so surround yourself with those you trust. 
(64) What do you like the most about your body?: that it still works.
(65) And least?: that i creak sometimes.
(66) Do you think you are good looking?: yeah, when it's really dark and i'm wearing black. :D
(67) Are you confident? that and a little insecure.
(68) What is the fictional character you're most like?: ramona what's-her-face.
69) Do people know how you feel?: not ever, unless i'm yelling at them. and then they KNOW how i feel.
(70) Are you perceived wrongly?: 99.9% of the time.

(71) Smoke?: only when i drink.
(72) Do drugs?: i should say no.
(73) Read the newspaper?: I try.
(74) Pray?: when i'm in a precarious situation, yes.
(75) Go to church? christmas and easter.
76) Talk to strangers who IM you?: nope.
(77) Sleep with stuffed animals?: i wish.
(78) Take walks in the rain?: favourite thing, bitches.
(79) Talk to people even though you hate them?: nope.
(80) Drive?: fast, fast fast.
(81) Like to drive fast?: everywhere.


(82) Liked your voice?: when i'm sick i sound like dolly parton/rob zombie/jimi hendrix.
(83) Hurt yourself?: i'm a clutz.
(84) Been out of the country?: what country? 
(85) Eaten something that made other people sick?: yea
(86) Burped?: yeah.
(87) Been unfaithful?: of.....?
(88) Been in love?: yes.
(89) Done drugs?: yeah. 
(90) Gone skinny dipping?: we all know the answer to that one.
(92) Had a surgery?: more than once.
(93) Ran away from home?: yeah.
(94) Played strip poker: yeah.
(95) Gotten beaten up?: yep.
(97) Been picked on?: of course
(98) Been on stage?: yes
(99) Been so drunk that you know you're supposed to go out on a date with someone, but you can't remember with who or when and that you faint when you look at yourself in the mirror in the morning, not to mention your breath?: sounds like a tuesday to me!
(100) Slept outdoors?: um, yes.
(101) Thought about suicide?: yeah,'s a pretty dark place and I try to stay away from those edges these days.
(102) Pulled an all-nighter?: a few.
(103) If yes, what is your record?: 4 days
(105) Talked on the phone all night?: ah, those were the days
(106) Slept together with the opposite sex without actually having sex?: not very often, but yes.
(107) Slept all day?: annnnnd...that's a wednesday.
(108) Killed someone?: not yet.
(109) Made out with a stranger?: yeah
(110) Had sex with a stranger?: we weren't strangers after that ;)
(111) Thought you're going crazy?: daily.
(112) Kissed the same sex?: yeah.
(113) Done anything sexual with the same sex?: yeah.
(114) Been betrayed?: who hasn't? 
(115) Had a dream that came true?: a few.
(116) Broken the law?: you could say that.
(117) Met a famous person?: yeah
(118) Have you ever killed an animal by accident?: yes
(146) Stolen anything?: only hearts...and cars.
(147) Been on radio/TV.?: I'm still waiting for my reality show on VH1.
(148) Been in a mosh-pit?: yeah.
(149) Had a nervous breakdown?: not yet
(150) Considered religious vocation?: i would make an excelllent nun, right?
(151) Been criticized about your sexual performance?: highly in, impossibe.
(152) Bungee jumped?: yep.
(153) Had a dream that kept coming back?: a few.

CLOTHES and other fashion:

(154) Shoe brand?: reef/thirtytwo/prada...i'm kidding. whatever is comfy.
(155) Brand of clothing?: hmmmm. sevs, CoH, RR? I'm a designer denim whore.
(156) Cologne/perfume?: i'm not telling.....
(157) What are you normally wearing to school/work?: pasties. yup.
(159) Wear hats?: on bad hair days.
(161) Wear make-up?: not very much.
162) Favorite place to shop?: my sisters' closets and little teeny boutiques and jewelry stands.
(163) Favorite article of clothing?: denims
(164) Are you trendy?: not really.
(165) Would you rather wear a uniform to school?: no, been there.


(166) Believe in life on other planets?: sure
(167) Miracles?: more like luck.
(168) Astrology?: i'm a bull, are you shitting me? weird.
(169) Magic?: only when i can pull a peeber out of my back pocket
(170) God?: doubtful.
(171) Satan?: don't i wish.
(172) Santa?: nope.
(173) Ghosts?: yeah.
(174) Luck?: yep.
(175) Love at first sight?: HAHAHAHA, no.
(176) Yin and Yang?: more like chin chang.
(177) Witches?: nope.
(178) Easter bunny?: i hate easter
(179) Believe it's possible to remain truly faithful forever?: it takes a type of commitment that only very strong people can cultivate.
(180) Believe there's a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?: hish hash.
(181) Do you wish on stars?: only when i was seven and that didn't work, obviously.
(182) Did you get frightened or uncomfortable seeing that as a section title?: ????
(183) Do you remember your first love?: yeah, unfortunately.
(184) Still love him/her?: sometimes, but there's also a sadness there...i wouldn't take that back. it taught me a lot.
(185) Do you consider love a mistake?: careless love, yes.
(186) What do you find romantic?: flowers, duh.
(187) Turn-on?: hot. hot, hot, hot! hahaha....intelligence, confidence, mad skills with the tongular. :D
(188) Turn-off?: boring, dumb, shallow or judgemental -- bigoted, extremely hairy or too loud.
(189) Do you base your judgment on looks alone: not really, actually.
(200) If someone you had no interest in dating expressed interest in dating you, how would you feel?: flattered, i guess...but sad for them. 
(201) Do you prefer knowing someone before dating them or going "blind"?: knowing them, duh -- how do you date someone blindly? i mean, is it just like....grade 8? "check yes or no..."?
(202) Have you ever wished it was more "socially acceptable" for a girl to ask a guy out?: it's not??!?!!!? 
(203) Have you ever been romantically attracted to someone physically unattractive?: not really....well, okay. HAHAHAHA.
(204) Do you think the opposite sex finds you good looking?: not usually, just most of the time.
(205) What is best about the opposite sex?: sexy eyes, grins and badass tattoos. 
(206) What is the worst thing about the opposite sex?: they don't get it sometimes -- scratch that, most of the time.
(207) What's the last present someone gave you? really wanna know? :D
(208) Are you in love?: love is for senior citizens, kittens and emo kids.
(209) Do you consider your significant other hot?: what constitutes a SO?
(210) What would you do if you were walking down the street and saw some hot guy/girl standing on the sidewalk?: "how you get all dat in dem jeans?!?"


(211) That haunted you?: some homeless creep...yeah, i know -- quality.
(212) You wanted to kill?: CJ, as usual.
(213) That you laughed at?: mark.
(214) That laughed at you?: Brian.
(215) That turned you on?: mmmmm...yeah.
(216) You went shopping with?: Brian.
(217) That broke your heart?: a little dog.
(218) To disappoint you?: me
(219) To ask you out?: some weirdo at the bar. or, outside of it...EW.
(220) To make you cry?: chuck norris.
(221) To brighten up your day?: the sun, and whats-his-face. :D
222) That you thought about?: where the fuck is everybody? 
(223) You saw a movie with?: um, brian.
(224) You talked to on the phone?: mommy.
(225) You talked to through IM?: trainwreck.
(226) You saw?: brian.
(227) You lost?: don't ask.
(229) You thought was completely insane?: myself
(230) You wanted to be?:......still working on that one.
(231) You told off?: some douchebag on the sidewalk.
(232) You trusted?: molly.
(233) You turned down?: um......can't remember his name. 

(234) Smiled?: today
(235) Laughed?: today
(236) Cried?: hmmmmm....two weeks, three?
(237) Bought something: honey roasted cashews at the sev.
(238) Danced?: in the car 
(239) Were sarcastic?: today
(240) hugged someone?: today
(241) Talked to an ex?: more like hung up on.
(242) Watched your fave movie?: i don't have a favorite movie
(243) Had a nightmare?: dunno.
(245) Talked on the phone?: today.
(246) Listened to the radio?: weeks?
(247) Watched TV?: today
(248) Went out?: today
(249) Helped someone?: yesterday
(250) Were mean?: today
(251) Sang?: today
(252) Saw a movie in a theater?: can't remember.
(253) Said "I love you"?: last night.
(254) Missed someone?: today.
(255) Fought with a family member?: it's been a long time
(256) Fought with a friend?: it's been a while.
(257) Had a serious conversation?: yesterday
(258) Got drunk?: Friday, little buzzed.
(259) Had sex?: too long

vive libremente

there are times in life when, as a human being, we reflect on our personal experiences and examine our separate and compelling motives for decisions and events that have taken place. we learn how to dissect our inner selves so completely that sometimes, personal humanity loses its appeal and the majority of things become just that: things. they become minor, insignificant things compared the complexity and depth of the "big picture". for small amounts of precious time, we hold in ourselves the vision, clarity and calm of a higher force at work, and we are happy. we make choices that we believe are best and when the positive consequences of those choices are realized, life improves.

there are days when life is at its hardest and we feel our time has been spent spinning in circles and those around us are hurting because of it. we feel devalued, unattractive, used and sad. there are circles of emotive darkness surrounding both our conciousness and our second levels or awareness; life is meaningless and hope has been banished to us for what seems like eternity. discontent with who we are seems to automatically anchor us to misfourtune and plain old 'bad luck'. our choices from the past haunt us, accompanied by regret and remorse for what they have brought, followed by anger or insecurity that we push inward. 

at polar ends of this continuous sphere of emotion, they both are opposing reactions of one another and will never be any closer, yet any farther away. we learn to take the good with the bad, smile when it's hard, and learn from our decisions. we cultivate foresight, yet fear not the consequences. we believe in the possibility of a higher power without letting that belief rule our lives or actions. we become better people because of the pain, and happier because of the delight that lies in everyday living. we're wiser because of the mistakes, yet more willing to open our minds to the influence of new knowledge. 


The Real Heroes are The Real People.

Today I realized what a silly girl I am, and what I've been missing out on by being so self absorbed: living life. I had the rare and blessed opportunity to be privledged enough to spend the day with 11 of the most wonderfully bright, intensly fascinating children I have ever met. The company I've been working for recently made a trip down to a private school for children with special needs. Some of these children have sever disabilities and will never walk, talk, or breathe on their own. Other children have what society likes to call "minor disabilities". I was able to work closely with eleven young individuals who have Tourette's Syndrome. 

Tourette's is an inherited neurological disorder with onset in childhood, characterized by the presence of multiple physical (also known as major motor) tics and at least one vocal tic; these tics characteristically wax and wane. Tourette's is defined as part of a spectrum of tic disorders, which includes transient and chronic tics. the medical condition was once considered a rare and bizarre syndrome and most often associated with the exclamation of obscene words or socially inappropriate and derogatory remarks. however, this symptom is present in only a small minority of people with Tourette's. It is no longer considered a rare condition, but it may not always be correctly identified because most cases are classified as mild. Since the incidence may be as high as one in a hundred people, up to 530,000 U.S. school-age children may have Tourette's, with the more common tics of eye blinking, coughing, throat clearing, sniffing, and facial movements. people with Tourette's usually have a normal life expectancy and above-average intelligence. the severity of the tics decreases for most children as they pass through adolescence, and extreme Tourette's in adulthood is a rarity. genetics and environmental situations can affect Tourette's, but the exact causes are unknown. In most cases, medication is unnecessary. There is no effective medication for every case of tics, but there are medications and therapies that can help when their use is warranted. There is not a medication that "fixes" it, and there is no known cure. 

as i interacted and talked to these children, i began to get a small glimpse of what their social and emotional lives may be like. persecution and ridicule from peers is the norm, and being patient with educators and other adults who make life harder out of ignorance is an everyday occurence. i was able to speak to ten-year-old willam, who experiences severe tics when nervous, upset or extremely excited. "it's about telling everybody, see? if i tell one person about TS [an abbreviation for Tourette's that is widely used by patients], they might go and tell four people about it, and THEY might tell four people each and pretty soon, you know, we'll have a million people knowing and talking all about it." at the innocent persistence of a boy set on educating the public, william's parents bill and gina, along with his school and pastor, have set up a program in which william and his peers travel to elementary and middle schools within a 30 mile radius once a week to teach other kids about the disease. parents and administrators have nothing but good to say about the last four months the program has been in full swing, with both the short term effects of the kids getting out and about and spending time in an atmosphere of fun and the long term effects of public education. william's mother gina says "the way he looks and talks when he's up there is amazing. he has this little...personality inside that was born to do this." There's not a thing in the world that would have made me miss this day, and it simply goes to show what is really important, and who really matters. I think it's time to reexamine what's going on in life and to take the bad in stride.

God, what amazing kids

sometimes we lose more than we gain.

i think sometimes we don't always get what we want, and we rarely get what we need. sometimes we make decisions based on pain or fear, and they go on to cripple future opportunities that would expand our lives for the better. sometimes we're just so worried that we're letting life pass us by and we get so terribly wrapped up in not missing a thing....and the next thing you know, we're crying over spilt beer at a party. sometimes we concentrate so hard on making life look effortless that we lose sight of what (or who) really matters, and we end up losing both ways. sometimes we short-circuit our ambitious personalities by pretending we don't care to finish anything or put work into the shit we truly care about. sometimes we sacrifice love for sex, happiness for fun, and real friends for 15 seconds in the limelight.......sometimes we accidentally end up hating ourselves for silly mistakes during drunken escapades with folks we barely know. 

what has happened to everything?

February 14th, AKA "Single Awareness Day"...

...For those of you who don't know, forgot, or are trying to burn the miserable thought from your bitter little minds, tomorrow is valentines' day. yes, yes -- the day where we pretend we're happy with what we've got, what we're getting and what we become. for weeks prior to this henious holiday, we are the prey of an insipid commercial love industry that attempts (with a certain type of glee that borderlines on malicious) to pass candy, cards, flowers, inanimate cuddly animals, diamonds, terribly unhealthy food and expensive accomodations off as true and undying love.  yeah, you could say i'm bitter, skeptic, pessimistic, angry, crushed or any other type of negative or pathetic emotion, but i'm not -- i'm simply a realist. sure, send me flowers. yep, candy works too....and hell no i'm not going to turn down a 24-carat diamond tennis bracelet. all i'm saying is, don't do something like that and expect me to be set, satisfied and shitted for the other 364 days of the year, okay?  true love means showing it when it doesn't matter, when there's no "you make it look good or that ass is grass" threat. it may sound cheesy, but regardless of the effort that's put into some idiotic holiday for the pure enjoyment of Patrick Heiniger, Harry Winston and that skank next door (yeah, the one with four bouquets all from different men), none of it matters unless you are truly committed for the rest of the year. so why not SKIP valentines' day, nix the flowers, return the diamonds/car/watch/whatever bauble and instead, have hot steamy animal sex? for goodness' sake -- i'm down.

World travels and international insight...

It's one of those days where you have stuff to do, but would rather cuddle into your favourite chair with a good book and a cup of the best columbian of those days where you want to see people, but it's not really worth the hassle of contacting everyone, dressing up and making it happen. It's really one of those days where I truly believe that I could go without human contact for the next four days. It's a wonderful phenomenon for the usual me, the incessant social butterfly, but I believe that I see way too many people these days; it's nice to just....not. I was flying into SLC Int. last night from Denver, and the fellow seated next to me started up a conversation. It began as the usual "Hi, how are ya-where ya going-where ya from-nice to meet you" sort of airplane drivel that I'm usually confronted by while traveling, but after a few minutes, the conversation entered talk of politics (as it usually does when I'm around) and then into a deep analysis of the President's psyche. Now normally, I'll have my iPod on ear-bending volume and my computer open on my lap with a "talk to me and die" sign taped to my skull, but due to an unsufficient power source at the hotel earlier that morning, my computer was long dead, my books had been read, and my mp3 was in the dying stages. 

And thus I gladly entered into conversation with this total stranger who ended up giving me insight into the lifestyle that I'm leading and what comes after it. 

In a quiet, disconcertingly accurate way, he pointed out that eventually I 
will want to settle down and life will get boring. Of course, I laughed and blithley explained that no, sir -- not me, not ever. He smiled back with a twinkle of bittersweet memory in his eyes and insisted that while it may not happen for a while for me, I most definitely will want something more than the push, push, rush, rush lifestyle and the 'me, me, me'-ness of my twenties...and in that process, I may just decide to be happy. He told me a great many things, most of which only hold value for me, but there was a silent encouragement in this dear man that yes, I really CAN do whatever i want, but to make sure it is truly what I want; and to surround myself with those I would want surrounding me for the rest of my life. Needless to say, it was a welcomely blessed insight into a man that has seen so much, and yet still has faith; a mind that has learned so much, yet still knows fear; a man who has lost so much, yet still continues to love. I'll never know his name, but this man did more for me in a six hour flight than most college professors have done in years.

Whoever you are, thank you.

for those damn 'nice guys'...

My friend Dave wrote this a while back and I totally agree and want to give him credit for his magical insight....I added a bit at the end. Enjoy. :D

I know a couple of nice guys...who think that they will always finish last. I know more than a couple of nice guys who DO always finish last. This is a tribute to those nice guys. Those nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl's every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for those guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they're at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don't end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn't worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you'd ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn't have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing "serious" between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: "oh, but we're just friends!" And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you're nice like that.

The nice guys don't often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don't seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can't. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as "oh, he's too nice to date" or "he would be a good boyfriend but he's not for me" or "he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn't possibly ask him out!" or the most frustrating of all: "no, it would ruin our friendship." Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can't figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I'm going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn't last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you're sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

Gentlemen, coming from one of "those girls", this is for you. This is for the one who has stood by and let me hurt him more than once, more than twice and more times than i could count -- he probably never will. This is for that one who lives down the street, or across town, or back home...coming from me:

Thank you.

"not another one!"

okay, here's the thing: stop fucking expecting me to be perfect, okay? 

i try, i struggle, and then i always end up failing at that stupid game. no, i don't want your problems. no, i cannot fix you...and NO, i won't love you for who you could be one day, dammit. i'm not someone who cares about everyone in the world. i'm not even someone who cares about everyone i know. the only people i love, get loved by me. the people i don't care about get shafted, shamelessly used, stepped on, beaten down and then used again. yeah, i'm shallow. get fucking used to it. i'm not going to be your role model of what's expected, okay? i have good days and bad days, just like everyone else. sometimes i swear in church and wear mismatched socks and drool when i sleep. i'll piss you off and grin, just because i enjoy getting a reaction out of someone. so don't tell me that you thought i was a good person, because we both know that's a bunch of bullshit -- you saw that i was an emotionally dangerous shithead and you LOVED it, which is why we first became friends. i'm not super attractive or a fabulous dresser or wealthy or extremely smart or nice or even very funny (c'mon, i laugh at my own jokes) why stick around? hell if i know -- you're the one who insists on it. so don't tell me that i don't care or that i'm selfish or that i have too much shit to do. I KNOW, GODDAMMIT; i know, alright? i'm taking care of it, and part of learning about life is learning that people aren't always who you think they are. and yeah, it sucks, but shit happens. i try to be as cool as possible, but at the end of the day? i'm just me and that's pretty damn rad. so you sit here and think about that.

the moral of this particular rant? stop pretending you're perfect and stop wanting someone who is.

tough days...

friends ask me if i'm scared. folks ask me if the pain is going to bother me. they ask me if i'm terrified of going through what's coming and then giving everything up. 

they're pretty close -- i'm fucking scared out of my mind. 

i've felt pain, anguish and almost unbearable hurt. the kind that makes you vomit because your body is suffering so much it can't contain it; the kind that makes you think you're dying...and yet, i've also felt the kind of non pain that says you really are dying.

i think i prefer the mind bending, gut wrenching, eyes rolling kind of pain.

it tells me that yes, i'm still alive and yeah, i'm going to be okay.

it's the kind of pain that convinces us we're human and what we've done was really stupid. it's that kind of pain that we learn from and try to avoid and steer clear of...but it tells me that i'm real. that yes, i can bleed and i will continue to and the next little while is usually a bitch, but we come out of it - you know, physical therapy and rehabilitation, exercise, striving to regain our previous levels. and that's okay, because it's a good pain. it makes us a little more careful, a bit smarter and a whole hell of lot more determined not to do THAT again. 

but what i struggle with is the non - pain. the kind that means your body is saying, "okay, i've given up, and if i don't, the pain i'm going to feel is insane"...and we're kind of glad, but we struggle to hold onto life because of what it means to us. and so after we come out of that numb, non - pain state, we almost die because of the REAL hurt that comes. but i tell you what, both times it's happened to me, i've been almost grateful for the mind bending shit that comes...and it's crazy, but i've grinned once or twice, because at that point, i know everything is good, even if it's not. i''ll never be able to explain it to someone who hasn't felt it, but i promise -- that shit is fucking.....nuts.

and yet, for all of the physical pain that's coming, i think that if anything, it'll be the emotional stuff that is going to hurt the most. 

how do you give part of yourself away? as if it never existed? as if you didn't want it, love it, need it...but knowing that if you didn't give it away, you'll only be hurting the one thing you love? how do you convey the type of love it takes to take a child and hand her to a different mother? how do you get past the feeling of betrayal that you feel for the rest of your life? will she hate me? or will she be able to see that i couldn't give her the kind of life she deserved as the number one part of my life? that i couldn't give her the childhood i had?

i'm doing the right thing, but everyday for the rest of my life, i'm going to miss her. 

and that breaks my heart -- the one organ that doesn't recover.

Addressing my attitude, in general.

as usual, things like this usually start with an interruption of everyday life. a disruption of the monotonous cycle. a break in our everday routine...and we collapse.

recently, i discovered that (HOLY SHIT!) i'm not liked, admired or even amusing to certain people. although i was completely (un) shocked by this extremely disturbing revelation, it left little meat to chew on in the mouth that is my mind. i know why some people ridicule me, dislike me, harrass me and hell, even downright hate me. and NEWFLASH - i'm okay with it. i'm the kind of person who can get hurt, be let down and even curb stomped (not that i recommend you try) and get right back up again. it may take say, a week or so, but oh yes, i'll eventually be back where you least expected or wanted me: in your face. even if you happened to be one of my best friends and you called me a whore and stopped talking to me, i'll get over it. people fuck up, and i'm a person too. therefore, i make mistakes. (!!!!!) yessiree, although it's truly incomprehensible, i too say stupid and idiotic things (especially when angry or drunk) and sleep with people i shouldn't and flip officers of the law off. well, the good news is: now you know. the bad news is: DEAL WITH IT. i really couldn't give a rat's ass if you like me. that's a personal problem; on your part. i'm doing what i have to do to get where i want, and if you don't like it? no apologies. 

now, don't get me wrong -- i'm not saying i hurt people on purpose. i don't slap little children on the back of the head or take a shit in the biology section at the library. i don't kill small animals or steal old peoples' walkers. yes, i'm brutally honest. yes, my clothes tend to disappear after yet another night of too much tequila, and yes, i'm definitely a bitch when i'm sleepy, hungry or PMS-ing. the only difference between me and someone who's an irritating douchebag? i know how to make things right. i can admit to being wrong, i will let you know i'm sorry, and i usually make you the most awesomest brownies. and guess what? i get out of bed every morning and i am so absolutely STOKED to be me for another day, i almost piss myself with glee. i laugh at people and i cry with people. i blow my nose, fart, burp and snore like other people. so i'm real. if that's too much for you to handle? oh well, because i have goals and ambitions and feelings and beliefs and dreams that NO ONE, not even you, can take away. there are some things so important to me that i would die for, because they're all i have left to live for, and i'm getting IT by doing IT how i think IT needs to be done. 

if you get in my way, i'll kick your fucking ass.

so go ahead and crank call me -- i'll just giggle. egg my house, it washes right off. don't return my phone calls, but tell your friends i'm a dirty whore who worships the devil and sucks my pastors penis. THAT'S OKAY! it's better than being a shitty, backstabbing asshole who uses and abuses people and far more decent than the guy who says that he'll be there no matter what and simply stops speaking to you for some petty reason. i love my family and i treat my friends right. i'm moody when i'm tired and i'm brutally honest. if i'm too busy being real for you, i'm suck.

i can still look people in the eye; i can still look MYSELF in the eye.

and i'm okay with me. 

in the end? 

that's all that matters.

the pursuit of stoked-ness...

there's something that happens to me when i'm standing at the top of a run, waiting to drop in and experience pure happiness -- it's the epitome of incredible. there's a totally different thing that happens when i lose an edge on an icy, shitty day and am surrounded by idiots who i doubt can walk, let alone get down the hill without causing havoc...but ilove it. i love the weird smell of burning p-tex and i love the sound of my board cleanly slap-slapping a box. i love the creeps who stand at the top of the park and hate and i love the kids just finding out what turning really is. i love the eight year old giggle that bubbles out when i take a tumble through a minefield of humps and bump and come up laughing so hard i can't feel my face. i love the euphoria that comes when looking around a circle of friends while exchanging fart jokes in the lift line and realizing that this is 'it'. i love seeing old friends, ex-bedmates, that crazy euro bastard who loves weird techno. i love asking people how their summer was, only to see the reminiscent gleam of south america, NZ, indo or Hood shine back at me. i love the bear hugs and the profanity. i love shaking my butt to the sounds of my new shred list this season and being so excited that i just get obnoxious. i love the adrenaline of trying something new and sticking it. i love the battle scars of not. i love the greasy food, the booze breath and the old setups. i love the new steeze and the new stories and the new lifties. i get negative and swear to never ride again. i hate on boys, on girls AND transexuals. i throw things and tell god that i absolutely despise him. i break fingers, ribs, heads, ass...and i do it all again. i can hold any job in the world, but for the rest of my life, this is what i'll return to, this wild-adrenaline-crazy-drunk-love-hate-broken melee. there is so much wrong with the world so often, but when i'm there, i'm THERE. nothing matters except going fast, going slow, riding, sliding, whatever the fuck i'm doing. i love being here, doing this. i love taking that, making it mine and holding it close. i love that to me, there's nothing better than freezing my ass off. i love the lifestyle and the people and everything that happens, good or bad. i don't give a damn how not-good of a rider, card-holder, girlfriend, person i may be, there's snow on the ground. 

i'm happy.

"dem hataz!"

this blog was proposed to me by a friend who believes that the shit talking has reached an all time high --- shortly after asking me if i had no shame. so here’s the answer i gave him: No, i don’t. recently i figured out that frankly, i just don’t give a damn. i don’t really give a flying fuck what kind of shit people tend to talk, because people will always talk. brilliant people talk about ideas, smart people talk about events, and stupid fucking idiots talk about people -- that’s the way the world works, turns, thinks, whatev....take it as you want it. i’m not going to spend time putting out fires that a) have absolutely nothing to do with me besides the fact that i’ve supposedly done it, had it happen to me, or talked about it and b) i don’t care about and can only weigh me down right now. i think 90% of the folks that think they know me or are my friends have absolutely NO IDEA of what’s been happening for the last twelve months or so, and that makes me laugh. the people who matter know, and those that don’t know obviously don’t give a shit and would talk it instead. i learned a lot in jail, mostly about myself, the way i work and why being real and recognizing truth is so important. i’m learning how to incorporate all of that into my life and while it’s not easy, things sure have become a hell of a lot clearer than they were. my family is numero uno -- i’m even thinking of getting a tat across my stomach (who says white chicks can’t be hood? haha). they’ve always been the ones to stick around, up and hold down for me, and that shit matters. my real friends are family anyway, so there’s not any point in differentiating between groups, and they know who they are. i guess the only people i don’t want or need in my life are the high maintainence, piece of shit assholes who truly believe that because we’ve shared a drink (or twenty-five) together at some random bar, we’re best friends and therefore i need to take care of them now. people without compassion enough to look beyond themselves and accept others, idiots without intelligence enough to make up their own minds about mainstaid issues in our society, pricks without kindness enough to reach out to a stranger or make fun of those that do -- go fuck yourselves, i’m over it. 

the fake, the assumed, and living the pretense of human existence is played out.

to those who continue to paticipate in the 'hate olympics' or believe that ’hating’ really is an acceptable form of social interaction, i hope that you’re enjoying it -- because someday, when you’re sixty and have entrenched your soul in the despising of mankind, you’re going to wake up....or maybe you won’t. but if you do, you’ll look around you and realized that you have alienated absolutely everyone of worth around you to the point where they cross the street so as not to speak with you. congratulations, you are now, and have been since deciding that you were 'too cool', a worthless piece of shit.


...means a lot more than just saying you’ll do something. it means a lot more than calling when it’s convenient or dropping plans for something means more than talking about shit that’s none of anyone else’s business. it means getting up early (as in, three am) to pick someone up from the airport. it’s about knowing when to keep the mouth shut and when to say something. it goes along with "yeah, you can wear that/eat that/borrow that cash"....and doing favours that you never collect on. it means opening up and being completely real, for better or for worse. friendship means honesty, integrity and love. sometimes it even includes calling someone out on the bullshit and the dangerous craziness, and that takes balls. it calls for midnight runs to the pharmacy, dropping everything to make pancakes on a tuesday morning and hugs that mean more than words. it’s about hopping a plane, catching a cab or getting in the car. it’s about holding hair, squeezing hands and communicating happiness when shit couldn’t get worse.   

when i wasn’t, i’m sorry.


I have, it seems, come to terms with being a complete nutcase...absolutely bat-shit crazy. These are the reasons and habits for such conclusions:

i like mixing food to make art.
sometimes i fall asleep singing to myself.
i try not to judge, but when i do, it's very harshly.
i will readily admit that i am rather intense about religion, politics and freedom of choice.
i often develop crushes on multiple people, including kenny g.
i prefer skiers over snowboarders in the dating aspect, usually because skiers have prettier eyes.
i drink way too much...frequently.
i'm too nice and too mean all at once.
i read a whole shitload of stuff that doesn't even make me smarter.
i would love to have a job that let me do whatever i want, but i don't -- so instead, i have a series of jobs doing whatever i want.
i like sex. 'nuff said.
i used to think i hated cats, chocolate and homeless people, but then i became a couch surfer, PMSed and am living with a cat now.
i am a people watcher.
i think pimples have individual personalities.
i am an obstinate asshole..about pretty much everything.
i start killing people when i don't get coffee.
i get bored really easily and would rather fly kites and fingerpaint.
i write shit like this and believe people actually read it.
i trust way too many people.
i intentionally throw myself into the street of life, hoping i will get hit by an adventure bus.
i love to cuddle --  i love being the little spoon.
i like waking up sore from the day before and having my body hate me 
................i know i'm human.
i have a terrible habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, usually in a questionable situation.
i love karaoke, but i suck at it unless i'm shitfaced and i play my air guitar.
i tend to make friends quickly and crazily.
i love t shirts
             ...and bumper stickers.
i have a wild imagination.
i fall out of trees/treehouses/treeswings a whole fucking lot.
i am one of those people who say, "awwwwwwwww...!" when there is a little kid or baby in the room.
i want to be a naked asssstronaut.
i love jumping in with both feet.
i can eat a whole pan of brownies without throwing up.
i love speed.
i would sell my soul to keep snowboarding for the rest of eternity.
i like cartoons, jello squares and the ocean.
i don't want to be famous, rich or powerful...i want to be happy.
i have a severe denim fetish.
i forget there is an world outside of whatever i'm doing.
i love meeting new people and hearing new stories.
i couldn't live without music and can be found singing to myself, randomly.
i get bored and raid the refrigerator.
i am an adrenaline junkie and go too far sometimes.
i mow the lawn barefoot and secretly hope i'll chop off a toe.
i wonder what happens when we die, and even think about my funeral.
i would like to know everything.
           ...every little thing in the entire universe.
i believe photos immortalize their subjects, and i want to save everything.
i love driving big trucks and SUVs even though i know they kill the earth.
i am a thai food fiend.
i can't wait....for anything.
i dance everywhere and i sing in the shower.
i honestly believe that one day, i will rule the planet(s).
i'm a geek.
i enjoy useless facts and idiots.
i'm OCD about vacumming, clean sheets and wet towels. 
i love being blonde.
i know that living life means LIVING, not just being alive.
i like watching fistfights.
i am an underwear freak.
i think sunburns are cool.
i don't eat butter or pork.
i want to go everywhere and see everything..including the moon.
i use the word 'fuck' a lot.
i watch CNN and the history channel.
i hate 'cool' kids...and people who think they're better than others.
i am a texture whore.
i love green. and black. and white.
i believe that queen was one of the greatest bands ever.
i have to make lists to stay organized and get everything done.
i really like christmas, really really REALLY.
i continue to fall for boys who look good in beanies.
i want to meet god so i can knock him off his horse.

what kids? THOSE kids.

this is for those, the kids who inspired. 
the weak, the down-trodden and the just fucking tired.
from a city of hell to a city of hate;
to a city of light, to where i was saved.
to a place where all play, unworried, unbidden.
for all the children who smile with their joys unhidden.
to the good of heart and strong of mind, 
the fear and the pain we've all left behind.
to the future and great people, sights and places.
to new ideas and new passion and wonderful faces.
this is to you: you're the reason i wrote this. 
it's the reason i stand in the rain and get my clothes wet.
you've come so far, don't run away now.
you've worked so hard and made so many vows.
to whatever you've given, to what you've recieved;
to you for the happiness in which you believed.
dreams aren't just dreams, they're the power that drives us;
and stakes aren't just high, they will never be higher.
we're the power we'll be, if only we see it.
you dream and you do, only if you believe it.
this is for you, the reason i wrote this.
and the reason i stand in the rain and get my clothes wet.
where have you gone, with your eyes alight?
with the commitment inside and passion so bright?
you're spiraling down, back to the city --
the one of self-hate, loathing and pity.
you've risen above, why go far back? 
all of your illusions are more than just show.
there is more to be done, and more to know.
so get up, kid -- the damn bell hasn't rung yet.
keep fighting back, there's still time for your bet.
this is for you, not looking over your shoulder.
to those who wait, who know that it's over.
it's all for the kids who don't have a clue;
to all of the people who think they're like you.
it's for the doubters and haters who never will know
just how high we can reach or how far we will go.
this is for us, we're the reason i wrote this;
we're the reason i stand in the rain and get my clothes wet.

Country Western Ballads

Ah, it's been a few days, things have changed -- it's time for another blog, folks! I've been thinking about country western songs...(no, not the one about losing his dog, the tractor, his woman or that old trailer)...the live like you were dyin' one. Depressing as fuck, I know, but once you get past the depressing and into the humorous morbidity of life, it's pretty goddamn funny. I mean, most of us are just spinning our wheels, trying to go somewhere and be something while life slips past in the background. I'm enjoying this OCD, overachieving, "cracked-out", motivation thing I've got going on right god, things do work out sometimes. Staying true to number one, keeping a sense of humor, and finding good people and better situations; I have found that life isn't so bloody hard.

And maybe some rather retarded shit really does tickle my noodle, but why shouldn't it? When I'm laughing at something, it doesn't mean I'm giving in to it or accepting anything, I'm just laughing to keep everything funny and in perspective -- stop telling me it's irreverent. Mark Twain said it best in response to an English novelist's criticism, "A discriminating irreverence is the creator and protector of all human liberty." Sometimes, ya just gotta giggle. I believe that the existence of a pain threshold is relative to how much you're laughing and living; no-holds-barred, head up, knees steady, "HOLY SHIT" kind of living. It's the type of life that won't let you die in some sterile hospital bed, surrounded by loved ones but rather, stuck like a pig in the top of an apple tree, dangling from a kite and strapped into a board after catching one wailing offshore mother and wondering "How the hell...??"

I want to get laughed at, too. If I'm being mocked or ridiculed, I must be doing something either incredibly genius that won't come to fruition until years after my untimely death, or something so stupid and foolhardy that someone else wanted to point while laughing (which will probably make their day and/or lead to my untimely death). The acceptance game everyone seems to play these days, where everyone seems desperately trying to conform to a nonconformist ideal that some narccissitic idiot has dreamed up, is played out. Why does everybody seem to think everyone has to wear the same clothes and go to the same bars and eat the same food and get the same tattoos and have the same friends, and plans, and cars, and hobbies, and 
BLAH BLAH BLAH? What's the point of living if we're playing by someone else's rules? Where's the fun in doing the same inane, boring shit we do week after week after week after week, hoping that 'when we grow up...' it will change? What crock of shit are we spoon-feeding ourselves to convince us we're fulfilled? It doesn't seem like anything gets questioned anymore; laziness has somehow been disguised as 'passion', uneducation and ignorance are condoned and EMBRACED, and hardwork has been traded or abandoned for 'connections' and 'hookups'. I would rather rely on brains, work ethic and purely awesome cahones than sell myself short. When does it stop being about all-talk and become all-action?

I will always have a book in my hand, continuously learning and spouting off useless information, but I love being me...I refuse to exemplify mediocrity and be anything less than an amazing person, just to fit in. I won't ever slow down or stop enjoying sunrises and adrenaline rushes. I will be more than a one-dimensional, needy piece of shit with a disgustingly pathetic entitlement complex. I will be more than a selfish, self-obsessed curmudgeon who is oblivious to the massive rock we live on. I have the ability to be so many different things; my brain can never get full. I will commit to creating a better future for a global society in which respect, compassion and responsibility are key elements of the human race. Giving in to a cycle of failure and fear would amount to a certain death in my book, so I'll press on in the hopes of seeing more of the world, meeting more people and being Living like we're dying isn't easy, but time is limited for all of us, so what choice do we have?

another water, mister?

Why does everything always go really well for about twenty-four hours and then suddenly fall off the "oh fuck.." cliff and land in the "shit!" river? it feels as though life is good, there's rad energy all around and then WHAM! like a two-by-four in the face, you lose your teeth, your pants, your dignity and anything else you may have been clinging onto? just when i thought i had it all figured out and everything made sense, something can wander back into my life and unknowingly twist my guts into a big ball of nervous...guck? c'mon. what kind of shitty sense does that make? i know i'm supposed to learn a thing or two in here, but i thought i already had. y'know, the whole "live, love, lose" thing. that stupid move that i vowed never to make again; that one idiotic moment when i threw what i wanted most out the window; that "i want to look back, but i have to move forward" shit. i'm changing my life (mostly because it's do or die time right about now. ha HA), doing what i should (sort of), being a pretty decent person (sometimes) and trying to make up for the rotten antics i've pulled -- all i wanted to do was go out and dance with friends. lord knows, i should have just stayed the hell away from that scene for a little while more and i never would have known anything about anything. but one text turned into forty, one hug ended up lasting a lifetime, and the girl who never regrets a goddamn thing began to...well, regret. you know the saying that goes "insanity is doing the same thing over and over and over and expecting different results"? that's what i'm trying to avoid! so i won't make any calls, i won't take anyone home, i won't play the games, tell the lies or pretend everything is okay. I won't humour the assholes, i won't play into the cliches, i won't cater to the private little gossip groups and i sure as hell won't ever do THAT again. whooooooooooooooooooops. thank god for fuckitoll, my new favourite prescription. oh sweet, darling societal detachment. who needs intimacy? who needs trust? who gives a flying fuck on a burning shitstick about loving? not me. i'll stand by and swig my water while enjoying the glorious debacle that has become SLC. "Bartender, another one of these, kind sir! And yes, I would like a steamy helping of self-revelation with some chilled hipocrisy on the side while you're at it, thanks."

Current Madness...

I wonder about current events sometimes; I can't seem to decide whether or not to pretend like I give a good goddamn about any of it.  Politics are interesting, but discussing them disgusts me. People aren't really interesting, but human tragedies and triumphs are fascinating. Religion is frustrating and wonderful all at the same time, but still confuses me as to why we care about a God who doesn't seem to care about us. I think Alanis Morisette songs are pretty much bullshit -- really convincing bullshit.

I'm beginning to believe that everything is a conspiracy. I am slowly losing faith in humanity and the intelligence we claim to possess. I think maybe having opposable thumbs and the power of verbal communication has really made us lesser creatures. I truly want to believe in the positivity of people and the elevation of society through good. 

It just isn't happening.

When did we become too lazy to speak out? What happened to our ability to question...everything? Instead of asking 'Why not?', we ask 'Why?'. I want to build a tree house in the middle of the jungle so I can watch butterflies and urinate through my floorboards. Why? No fucking clue. I just want to. I want to go back to school and become a doctor, a lawyer, an astronaut, a National Geographic photographer, a writer, an architect, and king of the world. Just because I can. I want to be a little bit of everything, all rolled into myself.

I don't want fame or fortune. In fact, I prefer being anonymous and broke. It teaches me to appreciate every meal, every true friend, every bill paid. It gives me dreams, it makes me think. I breathe deeper and see clearer. Loving someone is real. Wanting is needing, and I go after what I need.

 Money makes things funny, and not in a good way. 

Going back to politics in a round about way, here's a question: why do we pay our idiot, cheating athletes millions of dollars a year while the honest teachers and firemen and mailmen and cops and make shit? We're selling our feet to pay for shoes.