OCCASIONALLY 1'S AND 0'S
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Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
A USERS GUIDE TO THE GRAVY
In case you're wondering what makes the gravy tick, just keep on wondering. This is in no way shape or form anything relating to what makes me tick, but rather, what gets me. Got it? Good.
Recently I came across something shiny and new. Quite the gem if I do say myself. It's gems like this that really start me up.
After spending a little time with said gem I had to wonder,
"Is there a specific formula to which the gems can subscribe that will get to me every time?"
You know, or actually you probably don't. Here's a short list:
Cute
Infectious smile
Fun
Sweet
Cute
Affectionate
A little crazy
Hot
Lovely
A beauty
Understanding
Adventurous
"Monkey-ish"
Silly
Down
Wonderful
Charismatic
Smart
Nice
Intelligent
Bright Eyed
Bushy Tailed
Smells like heaven
Tastes even better
Sparkly eyes
Excitable
Doll like
Something I want to eat
Fan of gravy
Slippy likes her
Trouble, the good kind...
So the formula I suppose would be: take above ingredients, mix with a bit of booze, toss in some laughs, pepper generously with awesome conversation. Mix thoroughly, set aside. Bake at high temperatures until center rises, remove from heat, rub with oil and see what happens. It smells good to me. I wonder how it will taste? I can only assume it's just what the Dr. ordered.
In case you're wondering what makes the gravy tick, just keep on wondering. This is in no way shape or form anything relating to what makes me tick, but rather, what gets me. Got it? Good.
Recently I came across something shiny and new. Quite the gem if I do say myself. It's gems like this that really start me up.
After spending a little time with said gem I had to wonder,
"Is there a specific formula to which the gems can subscribe that will get to me every time?"
You know, or actually you probably don't. Here's a short list:
Cute
Infectious smile
Fun
Sweet
Cute
Affectionate
A little crazy
Hot
Lovely
A beauty
Understanding
Adventurous
"Monkey-ish"
Silly
Down
Wonderful
Charismatic
Smart
Nice
Intelligent
Bright Eyed
Bushy Tailed
Smells like heaven
Tastes even better
Sparkly eyes
Excitable
Doll like
Something I want to eat
Fan of gravy
Slippy likes her
Trouble, the good kind...
So the formula I suppose would be: take above ingredients, mix with a bit of booze, toss in some laughs, pepper generously with awesome conversation. Mix thoroughly, set aside. Bake at high temperatures until center rises, remove from heat, rub with oil and see what happens. It smells good to me. I wonder how it will taste? I can only assume it's just what the Dr. ordered.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Monday, August 04, 2008
BABYLON
Friday night I'm going nowhere
All the lights are changing green to red
Turning over TV stations
Situations running through my head
Well looking back through time
You know it's clear that I've been blind
I've been a fool
To ever open up my heart
To all that jealousy, that bitterness, that ridicule
Saturday I'm running wild
And all the lights are changing red to green
Moving through the crowd I'm pushing
Chemicals all rushing through my bloodstream
Only wish that you were here
You know I'm seeing it so clear
I've been afraid
To tell you how I really feel
Admit to some of those bad mistakes I've made
If you want it
Come and get it
Crying out loud
The love that I was
Giving you was
Never in doubt
Let go your heart
Let go your head
And feel it now
Babylon, Babylon
Sunday all the lights of London
Shining , Sky is fading red to blue
I'm kicking through the Autumn leaves
And wondering where it is you might be going to
Turning back for home
You know I'm feeling so alone
I can't believe
Climbing on the stair
I turn around to see you smiling there
In front of me
If you want it
Come and get it
Crying out loud
The love that I was
Giving you was
Never in doubt
And feel it now
Let go your heart
Let go your head
And feel it now
Let go your heart
Let go your head
And feel it now
Let go your heart
Let go your head
And feel it now
Let go your heart
Let go your head
And feel it now
Babylon, Babylon, Babylon
Thursday, July 31, 2008

DISAPPOINTMENT IS A FEATHER IN YOUR CAP.
I have been a big fan of BECK, for quite some time, and I love to listen to the old shit. Yeah, I'm old, and like a fine wine, it just keeps getting better. Here's something or other...
You want the truth, so you can crush it in your hand...
there's no map, that could tell you where you are. You're in between things, that only go half way...
Place your bets at the door before you leave.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008

I STILL MISS SOMEONE
At my door the leaves are falling
A cold wild wind Will come
Sweethearts walk by together
And I still miss someone
I go out on a party
And look for a little fun
But I find a darkened corner
'Cause I still miss someone
Oh, no I never got over those blue eyes
I see them every where
I miss those arms that held me
When all the love was there
I wonder if she's sorry
For leavin' what we'd begun
There's someone for me somewhere
And I still miss someone
Oh, no I never got over those blue eyes
I see them every where
I miss those arms that held me
When all the love was there
I wonder if she's sorry
For leavin' what we'd begun
There's someone for me somewhere
And I still miss someone
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN WE'VE BEEN PUBLISHED.
A good friend is sometimes, all you need. That good friend today is Carl Weiman, obscure scientist, and philanthropist extraordinaire. The mad man was kind enough to provide us with a review of the latest installment. Here it is, unabridged, in original form. We are proud to re-present the old soul window.


Dave Cook’s
“old soul window”, scanned painting/drawing
Review by Carl Weiman
Leonardo da Vinci observed that “The Eye is the Window of the Soul”, a beautiful metaphor that expresses both directions of the intimate flow our consciousness has with the outside world. We drink in the structure and beauty of our surroundings mainly through our vision, aiming it like a spotlight at the natural world. But communication goes in the other direction in face-to-face human contact. The self’s eye reads the intentions and emotions of the other’s eye as a window into the other’s soul, and of course vice versa. A huge distinction between us and animals is our sophisticated mental machinery for imagining and reflecting upon the mental states and intentions of our social counterparts. We build models of the people we are dealing with, and once crossing that boundary, models of their models of our models of …. etc. Inevitably then, we build models of ourselves for public presentation to be displayed in various roles according to our perception of the current stage. Negotiating a deal, convincing a partner or being convinced by one to take up an unexpected action, coercing a supplicant, pleading with a creditor, befriending a long-lost relative. Each has a different context and set of behaviors.
Neuroscientists have identified “mirror cells” in the brain which express these reflective functions of awareness. Sociopaths are purportedly diminished in this regard. All of the social activities of civilization including government, education, criminal justice, religion, art and agriculture involve intense reflective awareness of each other’s shifting roles within the hive of culture.
Mr. Cook’s work depicts the essence of the reflective frames of reference of the human soul, extracting away all content to lay naked the vessel and its unique nesting structure. Frames within frames, each an accurately proportioned image of its predecessor, but necessarily diminished and changed in small details by the subjective shrinking process. Like the successive images in the opposed mirrors of a barbershop. The simplicity of the frame shape and color, and absence of imagery within, focuses the viewer’s attention on the structure of the nesting, and puts the burden of responsibility for satisfaction of content-hunger directly on the viewer. The lack of hues emphasizes structure by eliminating any reliance on the color channel.
At the penultimate level, the spiral notebook is the outermost frame, startling the viewer with the fact that the regression is neither infinite nor anonymous. The artist is the ultimate outer frame, individual and idiosyncratic. All else is within his depicted imagination. But not quite! The ultimate framing level is the digitized image, conveniently used here as a method of communicating the image hundreds of miles away. But the with the side effects are that thousands can see it, and this image will remain intact long after the spiral notebook has disappeared.
A good friend is sometimes, all you need. That good friend today is Carl Weiman, obscure scientist, and philanthropist extraordinaire. The mad man was kind enough to provide us with a review of the latest installment. Here it is, unabridged, in original form. We are proud to re-present the old soul window.
Dave Cook’s
“old soul window”, scanned painting/drawing
Review by Carl Weiman
Leonardo da Vinci observed that “The Eye is the Window of the Soul”, a beautiful metaphor that expresses both directions of the intimate flow our consciousness has with the outside world. We drink in the structure and beauty of our surroundings mainly through our vision, aiming it like a spotlight at the natural world. But communication goes in the other direction in face-to-face human contact. The self’s eye reads the intentions and emotions of the other’s eye as a window into the other’s soul, and of course vice versa. A huge distinction between us and animals is our sophisticated mental machinery for imagining and reflecting upon the mental states and intentions of our social counterparts. We build models of the people we are dealing with, and once crossing that boundary, models of their models of our models of …. etc. Inevitably then, we build models of ourselves for public presentation to be displayed in various roles according to our perception of the current stage. Negotiating a deal, convincing a partner or being convinced by one to take up an unexpected action, coercing a supplicant, pleading with a creditor, befriending a long-lost relative. Each has a different context and set of behaviors.
Neuroscientists have identified “mirror cells” in the brain which express these reflective functions of awareness. Sociopaths are purportedly diminished in this regard. All of the social activities of civilization including government, education, criminal justice, religion, art and agriculture involve intense reflective awareness of each other’s shifting roles within the hive of culture.
Mr. Cook’s work depicts the essence of the reflective frames of reference of the human soul, extracting away all content to lay naked the vessel and its unique nesting structure. Frames within frames, each an accurately proportioned image of its predecessor, but necessarily diminished and changed in small details by the subjective shrinking process. Like the successive images in the opposed mirrors of a barbershop. The simplicity of the frame shape and color, and absence of imagery within, focuses the viewer’s attention on the structure of the nesting, and puts the burden of responsibility for satisfaction of content-hunger directly on the viewer. The lack of hues emphasizes structure by eliminating any reliance on the color channel.
At the penultimate level, the spiral notebook is the outermost frame, startling the viewer with the fact that the regression is neither infinite nor anonymous. The artist is the ultimate outer frame, individual and idiosyncratic. All else is within his depicted imagination. But not quite! The ultimate framing level is the digitized image, conveniently used here as a method of communicating the image hundreds of miles away. But the with the side effects are that thousands can see it, and this image will remain intact long after the spiral notebook has disappeared.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
TIME FOR REVIEW
On Monday, I will have my review after my month contract at http://www.FramesDirect.com. Anything cool you see is all me. ;o)
How will it go, well I believe, but one can never tell. All I know is how I feel, and tonight I feel nice. I fell I have done a good job at work, and took steps to clear my head, and figure a few things out. It's amazing thhe things you can do in the heat, especially with the lack of coffee. I have been one cupping it, and that's a stretch for me, but if you're reading this, that comes as no surprise. I like my coffee. I like my beer. I like my smokes. I like my softness. It's the simple pleasures after all ain't it? Ahh yes, the birth of the classicool. Wait for it...
Friday, June 27, 2008
OLD SOUL WINDOW
As the move has brought many changes in my life, an old soul in myself has resurfaced. I have decided to start producing art again, and this is the first installment, of many I hope. Here it is, it's old, it's dark, but it's quirky, and looks like if you look hard enough, you just might be able to make out what's inside.

As the move has brought many changes in my life, an old soul in myself has resurfaced. I have decided to start producing art again, and this is the first installment, of many I hope. Here it is, it's old, it's dark, but it's quirky, and looks like if you look hard enough, you just might be able to make out what's inside.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
TURN AND FACE THE STRANGE
I think it's time, well actually it has been time for quite some time, does even make sense? Actually, no, it doesn't, I believe that my trepidation for changes, has been that I enjoy coming up with new seemingly logical ways to dispel
myself. Drrrrrrr. If that's offensive to you then, slap yourself, repeatedly, in the chest, whilst trying to bite your ear. Get it? Got it? Good. Now back to me.
I spose what LiWe was sayin last night, rings rather true. I can put up with crap for a nice piece of pie. I put up with some really CRAPPY crap for a shitty piece of pie right now. What's the difference? My morals? HA! Look at what I currently do for a living. Is that really waving my moral banner? If I am, I'm sorry, but you should start slapping me, given the first opportunity.
I can still covvet my MAC when I get home, we can have unabated sensual moments, her silver skin, touched to my pinkness, oh jeebus. I need help...
I think it's time, well actually it has been time for quite some time, does even make sense? Actually, no, it doesn't, I believe that my trepidation for changes, has been that I enjoy coming up with new seemingly logical ways to dispel
myself. Drrrrrrr. If that's offensive to you then, slap yourself, repeatedly, in the chest, whilst trying to bite your ear. Get it? Got it? Good. Now back to me.
I spose what LiWe was sayin last night, rings rather true. I can put up with crap for a nice piece of pie. I put up with some really CRAPPY crap for a shitty piece of pie right now. What's the difference? My morals? HA! Look at what I currently do for a living. Is that really waving my moral banner? If I am, I'm sorry, but you should start slapping me, given the first opportunity.
I can still covvet my MAC when I get home, we can have unabated sensual moments, her silver skin, touched to my pinkness, oh jeebus. I need help...
Monday, March 03, 2008
A CASE OF THE MONDAYS
Yet another monday morning for me that is not all that well. First off my accountant needs to be fired. My finances are a mess due to a mishap with a birthday card. Oh the domino effect. Oh well, I'll make it work, somehow.
Ok let me just say I am hell of jelly today for my two favorite bitches took the day off and are playing at Red Rocks. No invite! WTF? You know I would have called in sick. Oh well, I guess you needed your alone time.
Ok, poor me, yeah, I know. Well, fuck off. No one is making you read this.
Yet another monday morning for me that is not all that well. First off my accountant needs to be fired. My finances are a mess due to a mishap with a birthday card. Oh the domino effect. Oh well, I'll make it work, somehow.
Ok let me just say I am hell of jelly today for my two favorite bitches took the day off and are playing at Red Rocks. No invite! WTF? You know I would have called in sick. Oh well, I guess you needed your alone time.
Ok, poor me, yeah, I know. Well, fuck off. No one is making you read this.
Thursday, February 28, 2008


AND THEY CALL IT PUPPY LOVE
Last night was like a throwback to the days of yore, with a twist. The beautiful Ms. LiWe and I had some wonderful Pho at the newest noodle house in the county before heading over to the Banff Mountain Film Festival World Tour screening at the university. On the drive over, we enjoyed some tasty brownie's that old Lop Ear had prepared for his mending leg, just days before. MMM, brownies. After the screening of the best of the best of the film fest (which was quite good), we stopped by an old school American haunt, that we had not previously been to before. Where do you find the best fries and Coca-Cola products, and a cheap hot fudge sundae? That's right Mickey D's! I found it funny that we had never been to the old arches together til now, but it was so reminiscent of the campy old tradition of Mickey D's and movies, that we just had to do it right.
We had a medium fries, a hot fudge sundae and a large Coca-Cola, complete with double sippin' straws...
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
STYROFOAM
Well, There's nothing on TV
That will warm up your feet
As you gather your ribbons
And declare your retreat
As your shadow chases you
Mine chases me
And your sugar, and stamps, and alcohol
Hang high from a tree
Singin' Hey, remember me
I'm the one who stood up your backbone
Hey, 1, 2, 3
What will it take
For you to break, our styrofoam?
Well I hit up a high note
And asked you what do you think?
You tell me to go wash my mouth out
Away, in the sink
And perhaps I'm just not built for singing
Perhaps I'm just not built for sound
Well I'm singing Hey, look at me
I'm the one designing your clothes
Hey, What about me?
And all that I hate
I wish it'd break , like styrofoam
And, I dug at your cavity,
I fill it with gold
Because it's caps again
Back to me
And the talk it's gets old, it gets old
Hey, wait for me
I'm the one walking your slope
Hey, you wait and see
Cause it'd be great, if you'd just break
If you'd just beak
Like styrofoam
Friday, February 08, 2008

THE KING OF CARROT FLOWERS, PT. 1
When you were young
You were the king of carrot flowers
And how you built a tower tumbling through the trees
In holy rattlesnakes that fell all around your feet
And your mom would stick a fork right into daddy's shoulder
And dad would throw the garbage all across the floor
As we would lay and learn what each other's bodies were for
And this is the room
One afternoon I knew I could love you
And from above you how I sank into your soul
Into that secret place where no one dares to go
And your mom would drink until she was no longer speaking
And dad would dream of all the different ways to die
Each one a little more than he could dare to try

IN THE AEROPLANE OVER THE SEA
What a beautiful face
I have found in this place
That is circling all round the sun
What a beautiful dream
That could flash on the screen
In a blink of an eye and be gone from me
Soft and sweet
Let me hold it close and keep it here with me
And one day we will die
And our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea
But for now we are young
Let us lay in the sun
And count every beautiful thing we can see
Love to be
In the arms of all I'm keeping here with me
What a curious life we have found here tonight
There is music that sounds from the street
There are lights in the clouds
Anne's ghost all around
Hear her voice as it's rolling and ringing through me
Soft and sweet
How the notes all bend and reach above the trees
Now how I remember you
How I would push my fingers through
Your mouth to make those muscles move
That made your voice so smooth and sweet
And now we keep where we don't know
All secrets sleep in winter clothes
With one you loved so long ago
Now he don't even know his name
What a beautiful face
I have found in this place
That is circling all round the sun
And when we meet on a cloud
I'll be laughing out loud
I'll be laughing with everyone I see
Can't believe how strange it is to be anything at all
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Monday, January 21, 2008
IT WAS THE BEST OF TIMES
I hope that doesn't mean the worst of times are around the corner. Well let me just say that I had a great weekend with the lady I love. We were laughing, talking, kissing, and visiting Argentina, wow, soooo good! I love this girl with all my heart, and things seem to be getting much better. I hope this trend continues, and that we're able to keep this honey moon going. I don't think it will be too difficult. So here's to you and here's to me, bff's we shall always be.
w00t! w00t!
Tuesday, December 11, 2007

HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS
As the day approaches my heart grows warmer, and yet still a bit melancholy. I can't help but smile when I here Judy Garland's haunting version of the the song. It struck a particular chord with me this year, and in a minute you'll know just why. Here are Judy's lyrics to this Christmas classic. Try and hold back your tears. Bid, this one's for you.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
Next year all our troubles will be
out of sight
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the yule-tide gay
Next year all our troubles will be
miles away
Once again as in olden days
Happy golden days of your
Faithful friends who were near to us
Will be dear to us once more
Someday soon, we all will be together
If the Fates allow
Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now.
Monday, December 10, 2007

MONDAZED
Well hello to all who are reading this, haha, that's nobody! Anywho, I just wanted to say that I am in a good mood today, and have figured some things out in my head. I realize the WATCHDOG group and the FDA still have yet to reconvene, but that's ok. Somebody once told me that absence make the heart grow fonder. I agree with that person whole-heartedly. It sure does for me, and I hope it does for her too.
I had a great weekend catching up with some old friends, and making some new ones, well just one actually. Good times were had by all, but sadly, they are never long enough. It's always good for me to speak with some oldies but goodies for they remind me of who I am, and what I want. I am ME, I want YOU. That's pretty well known though, so albeit, I want IT, if I don't get IT, I am going to be ok. A wittle sad, but hey, who isn't these days...
Friday, December 07, 2007

FDA & WATCHDOG GROUP REACH CONCLUSION (SORT OF)
In yesterdays post I mentioned that there were going to be some talks last night. The talks were going to address the Cosmic Connection's® shelf life and see what could be done to preserve/destroy it.
Both sides brought up valid and true points, but no final decision could be reached. Deciding not to be locked in to a total stalemate, both parties agreed that the "connection" would be removed from the shelves for a period of one week so that it could be thoroughly examined.
After the week long examination both parties agreed to reconvene with both of their findings to present to one another. The parties also expressed interest in coming to a final conclusion at the next meeting, loosely scheduled for late next week.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
WELL...
It's come to this. It's time to make-up or break-up. I hope it's not the latter, but I kind of think it will be. I am going to talk it out tonight with my girl, so we'll see. Here's to being wrong. I have felt like this was coming, I just wish it didn't have to come like this. How's that you say? Well, I 'm not going to say. Let's just say there's been some pulling away on her part , and some withdrawing on my part. It has always seemed as if there was a shelf life to this whole thing, I hope it's not expired yet. I will undoubtedly be posting about what happens tonight. I know it will be for the best, no matter the outcome. It's just sad to see the magic fade away, because it makes me wonder if it was really there at all. I think it was, but I'm not the only one in the mix. I believe in magic, especially romantically. I guess we'll see if I am just a hopeless romantic, or if it there really is a little bit of magic in that old black hat. Oh the holidays...
It's come to this. It's time to make-up or break-up. I hope it's not the latter, but I kind of think it will be. I am going to talk it out tonight with my girl, so we'll see. Here's to being wrong. I have felt like this was coming, I just wish it didn't have to come like this. How's that you say? Well, I 'm not going to say. Let's just say there's been some pulling away on her part , and some withdrawing on my part. It has always seemed as if there was a shelf life to this whole thing, I hope it's not expired yet. I will undoubtedly be posting about what happens tonight. I know it will be for the best, no matter the outcome. It's just sad to see the magic fade away, because it makes me wonder if it was really there at all. I think it was, but I'm not the only one in the mix. I believe in magic, especially romantically. I guess we'll see if I am just a hopeless romantic, or if it there really is a little bit of magic in that old black hat. Oh the holidays...
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Wednesday, October 31, 2007

AND IT'S CONTAGIOUS... REGINA SPEKTOR 10.30.07
The stage at the Wiltern was dressed as if you had just stumbled into the theater after a large rock concert. There were various disco balls that lay deflated from their former glory sparkling high above the stage. There were paper bits strewn about the stage and a few musical instruments. There was a mint green hollow body guitar, and baby, that piano was grand.
You may have been upset that you missed the show, but to your surprise you found a quirky girl tapping the ivory, and so, you decide to stay, and honey, you're glad you did because what the rock n roll show would have done to your soul could not hold a candle to what ms.Regina did to it instead. That girl, that woman, the lady Regina...
Gasp, sigh...
Amazing doesn't really describe what I experienced. I had never been in such close proximity to such an amazing artist before. The stage presence from this cute little girl would take anyone down. I had never seen anyone own it, like that. Here's this little girl, so cute, so talented, so smart, and all, so effortless. To walk out on stage armed only with your piano, your voice, and your smile, has got to be extremely nerve racking. If it was for Regina, I would have never known.
Own it, check. Bring the house down, check. Bring a tear to your eye, check. Make you laugh, check. Make you feel like you were witnessing a moment in time that will never be duplicated, check.
I cannot say enough good things about the girl. America this is your daughter. It's evolution. It's the confluence of jazz, rock, and all great things American, musically. It's time for Regina. I am overjoyed to be able to say that I saw her when she was young. Surely she will be the biggest star in the world. How can this perfection not be? Not only is she the greatest thing musically, ever, she's got a great social commentary to boot. I can't get over it. I'm still smiling, beaming and annoying the CRAP out of my coworkers,I think I have played the only album I currently have, at least three, possibly four times today, oh and it's on again.
If you haven't heard of her, listen. If you haven't seen her, look. If you don't like her, kill yourself, cause you suck and that's sad. It's not even a stretch to say, that was the best show of my life last night, and I am no stranger to the show. The sirens song had me in tears within ten minutes, and it wasn't because it was reminding me of some sad or depressing time. It was because I couldn't smile any bigger. I could not laugh any harder, and I could not have had my heart filled with any more joy than I experienced at the Wiltern just last night. It was magic. It was the stuff dreams are made of.
To end the show, she took three bows to the crowd and exclaimed, "I'm so happy"
The joy flowed from my eyes, and for a moment in time, everything was fine. All was well, and it seemed the joy I was feeling was not lost on me. You couldn't escape it in the room, it truly was contagious, Regina herself could not escape. Thank you ms.Spektor, thank you.
Monday, October 29, 2007

EMERGE
Last night I could not get that word out of my head. It was like the lights were turned on, finally. Perhaps the lights have been on, but I was so afraid to see what was there, I just couldn't allow myself to look. I had intentionally been numbing myself, so that I couldn't see at all. I can't believe it took me this long to wake up, but hey, I am now awake, a bit groggy, but awake. It's amazing the CRAP that you see once you finally allow yourself to take a look around the place you call your life.
I have been screwing up , left, right, forwards, backwards and any other way you can think of. I knew I was doing it, but I was kidding myself by thinking it would all just magically be ok. I have been pushing those I love away, and that hurts me the worst. The one I have pushed away the most, is in fact the one that I love the most. There is no way to express the regret that I feel for the childish ways I have acted towards this person. I cannot believe that they still, despite all my efforts, love me. It was this kind of unconditional love that really helped me to awake.
I finally feel that mentally, I am in a good place. That being said, I feel that I have tangled a lot of things up, and it will take some time and patience to get them untangled, but that's ok. It's kind of like the long winter is over, and the first rites of spring are here. I know I have said I have been here before,but I hadn't believed it until now.
I think that is the all important ingredient. Belief. I had not, until this point, actually believed that I could do this. I didn't think I had the strength inside me. It's funny to me that I needed someone else to see it in me, to believe it myself. It's not funny I guess, at all.
You know who you are. You know what I mean, and I am so happy to have the opportunity to give back to you what you have given to me. I may not ever be able to repay you fully, but I'll live the rest of my precious time with you to make sure that I am doing everything I can to make you really feel it, but not too much, I wouldn't want you to feel any pressure...
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Thursday, October 11, 2007
PRESSURE & PROXIMITY
Two words that hold much meaning these days. I think they are closely related and worlds apart. A paradox, a conundrum, a snafu. Where does it start, where does it end? Is it too heavy, or treading too lightly? Is there too much speak, and not enough silence?
I love to ask questions when I know no one has the answers, and there is no way of figuring them out. Perhaps that's my own pressure. I know only I can answer these questions for myself, so that's the proximity effect. Hmmm, pressure and proximity. Sounds like a breakfast cereal, I think I had one bowl too many...
Two words that hold much meaning these days. I think they are closely related and worlds apart. A paradox, a conundrum, a snafu. Where does it start, where does it end? Is it too heavy, or treading too lightly? Is there too much speak, and not enough silence?
I love to ask questions when I know no one has the answers, and there is no way of figuring them out. Perhaps that's my own pressure. I know only I can answer these questions for myself, so that's the proximity effect. Hmmm, pressure and proximity. Sounds like a breakfast cereal, I think I had one bowl too many...
Wednesday, October 10, 2007

RADIOHEAD - IN RAINBOWS
In Rainbows, starts almost where "Hail to the Thief" left off, a bit odd but as always melodic. As per usual I knew this album would be a departure from their last album, so as I keep listening, it truly is, but was not the far off weird departure I thought it might be. Well, that would be Kid A, so my thought would not have been a departure, instead, Radiohead have mad a strangely beautiful, pretty album. Who knew they could turn their self loathing into something that reminds you of the joyful times?
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007



Holy CRAP! I'm back bitches. YOu all must have been washed away by the tears of those former subscribers who used to actually read this crap rag. Well since no one is reading this anyhow I can say whatever I like. What do I like? I dunno. I like me some DJ Sniffles, but she's in the bay today, speaking of the bay, your host ( that's me bum-soo ) is headed to Vegas this weekend to stay at the Mandalay Bay!
Holler.
Yes the rumors are all true, and Stevie Lizard is not anywhere in sight. I am headed to sincity to catch up with some good ol' southern frat daddies I ustacould know back in college. Yeah, I said ustacould, what of it? I' ain't too positivo how this weekend will go seeing as all these southern fux are married and I'm sure have lost at least one of their balls to their fag hag bitches they call wives. What's that? No, I am not being mean, I used to be married to one of those fag hags, so I am just calling myself out! See, told you, now go fuck yerself!
I ain't really trying to write anything prolific here today, I just wanted to get back into the blogging habit, so you might call it a stab in the dark, personally I prefer a poke in the dark, but SOMEBODY always wants to do it with the lights on! It's quite nice, actually, I'm only grandstanding because I can, I have a blog! You are all my minions, who must subscribe to this blog, or I will quietly cry in the corner. Geez, it's a good thing nobody's reading this CRAP today, cause CRAP it surely be. JIC you missed it , it's FRIDAY! Woot, woot! Well kiddies, I'll let you know how the debauchery plays out this weekend.
p.s. This bitch is getting a boob job!
In an effort to bring you the best CRAP on earth I will be adding many more photos to cosmiccornblog! Stay tuned... To kick this shit off, here's a few photos from my trip to the Getty Museum in Los Angeles.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Monday, May 08, 2006

A GAMBLE IN LIFE (AN OPEN LETTER TO JENNY LEWIS)
I wanted to write a song about French films and trains, but I couldn't focus, focus on the pain.
So now I am just sittin' here thinkin' of you, I am on the Texas Eagle, it's route 22.
You know already that my middle name is always, so why must you dance around my hallways?
I am waiting for you, now in the car, it looks like however, we'll never get far.
Baby, I know your bad news, after all that's the reason I like you.
Don't you think I know it's a hit? Your starring in it, but I think you know, you're the shit.
shu-bop. shu-bop. my baby...
I must wonder, do you love me like I love you? I want to know you, but will I ever get to?
I'll hold your life in my hands, not just that pretty little face.
When I get to California, please, put me in my place.
Cause I love you, and I don't care if you love me. Go ahead, have the baby.
If it turns out to be all for love, you will be loved. Open up your eyes, keep it up, it will be enough. You know it, you will be loved.
I wanted to find myself by travelin' out west, but I don't think however that there is anyone who is better. This is the reason, I will not drop the rock on you, and so you know, it's here in this letter.
If you're telling me that you're lonely too, why do I sit here waiting, panting for you? If you have had enough o fthe breakdowns, why don't you just let your guard down? I'll never deconstruct, but I'll live my life to build you up.
Please don't murder what matters to me, cause you'll be killing yourself if you did.
I know I'm all alone, and seriously what the hell is sleep? I hope that one day you will sing this song, and we'll get the chance to meet.
Could you really be my American wife, or is this just one more gamble in life?
Thursday, April 27, 2006

VINNIE & DOM
Well it has only taken a month or so, but I wanted to introduce you all to the newlyweds Mr and Mrs. Vince & Dominique Carson. The union of the souls took place on Tuesday March 21, 2006 at Restaurant Barclay in Aspen, CO. The event went off without a hitch thanks to the efforts of the tireless citizens of Stumble Town, who had way too long to plan the shebang anyhow. The kids are now ready to spread their wings and fly as they prepare for a move out to sunny California. While we shall miss them tremendously, we know it is only a matter of time before their lives are chronicled on "the Real Housewives of Orange County"
So say your "see-ya-lata's" now, cause these kiddies are out! Love you two to death.
Friday, March 10, 2006
THE ONLY TIME I TELL THE TRUTH WHEN I AM SOBER.
Here's a post from the fabulous Ms. Huck that was regrettably lost in the piles of paper on my desk. Lucky for you, I found it.
SURROUNDED
I hiked the Ute with Huck yesterday. We hike it a lot. We went up and down all summer; my new ACL held its own but each step of the descent reminded me that I was not yet fully healed.
The trail is different in the fall; dark and cool and mostly empty. It is beautiful in a mature way, somehow different than hikes in the spring, when the trailÂ’s fresh splendor and my freshly un-bandaged knee had the energy of an anxious puppy. Now it is like an old friend, one who you know so well, each root, curve, and vista, that you notice the subtle but ongoing changes. Hidden roots are exposed as dirt is washed away by the rain and views are altered by the newly bare Aspens. Rain and snow have left it wet and slippery, so I bought some trekking poles for support on the hike down.
An old friend came to town to have dinner. We met in Aspen almost seven years ago and he changed my life. Once my best friend and the love of my life, he is now just an old friend and someone who has known me completely and loved me anyway. Walking through town after dinner he asked me why I was so in love with Aspen. I looked around, surrounded by the familiar sights and smells that make Aspen my home, and with an enormous smile I replied, “Even when it's bad, it is so good.”
Heartbreak is humbling. I am fortunate in that I was humbled into the arms of my friends. It felt like I hit the hard ground, but I know that my fall was softened by the ready hands, shoulders and words of my friends. Not wanting to be home alone I crashed on everyone'’s couch, I lost my pants in J and Da'’s loft, I got a pep talk from Brades that meant more than he knew. I drank wine with the other two badass brunettes, I ate take out with Riss, and Bean and I sang along loudly and badly to Air Supply. My dad called to say "“hi"” and I cried. I saw the knight at Bentley's with the new girl and I cried. I ran a stop sign that I could not see for tears and while the officer wrote up the ticket, I cried. I cried to El and El at work, I cried buckets on Beanie's couch, and in Cook's hug I cried until I finally laughed.
The descent was excruciating, but I had a lot of support.
I walked to my car last week to find that my front right tire was completely flat. Sadly, I had no idea what to do. Freezing and helpless I ran (in high heels) to find Ry-ry, who went to the gas station with me, showed me how to put air in my tire, and told me how to get to the tire store. My couch weighs five hundred pounds. Literally. It now rests beautifully on the second floor of my new apartment. I knew that I was going to need a little help to get it up the very narrow stair case so I made a few calls. I didn'’t say much and did my best to stay out of the way as the boys uncrated, disassembled, and maneuvered the couch up to my living room. Following the effort we sat on my front porch, basking in one of fallÂ’s last warm afternoons; me, my ex-boyfriend, his college roommates and my friend's soon-to-be ex-husband. My friends. Who needs frogs when I am surrounded by princes?
The day I moved to Aspen I found a group of people who have since become my friends. They have been my problem solvers, dog walkers, drinking buddies, ski buddies, confidants, counselors, and my cheerleaders. They have made me laugh, made me cry, made me drink, eat and sleep. I have been laughed with, laughed at, hugged, kissed, carried, thrown and drug. I have been listened to, understood, confided in and trusted. They have been my sisters, my brothers, my family, and I have been loved. I am loved.
Everyday I walk out of my front door and look around. I am surrounded by the mountains that I have known and loved all of my life, surrounded by my old familiar friends. Last night I walked under their comforting gaze to meet some other familiar faces. Perched on my usual seat at 39, surrounded by my friends, I laughed until I cried.
Only a few more times up the Ute until winter sets in for good. It is already snowy and icy up top, but not to worry, I have my trekking poles. I will miss my old friend but I will be skiing down the other side of the mountain in no time, on a healed but scarred knee, surrounded by friends who have seen me through it all.
Even when itÂ’s bad, it is so good. ThatÂ’s the beauty of living in Aspen. That is the beauty of living.
Here's a post from the fabulous Ms. Huck that was regrettably lost in the piles of paper on my desk. Lucky for you, I found it.
SURROUNDED
I hiked the Ute with Huck yesterday. We hike it a lot. We went up and down all summer; my new ACL held its own but each step of the descent reminded me that I was not yet fully healed.
The trail is different in the fall; dark and cool and mostly empty. It is beautiful in a mature way, somehow different than hikes in the spring, when the trailÂ’s fresh splendor and my freshly un-bandaged knee had the energy of an anxious puppy. Now it is like an old friend, one who you know so well, each root, curve, and vista, that you notice the subtle but ongoing changes. Hidden roots are exposed as dirt is washed away by the rain and views are altered by the newly bare Aspens. Rain and snow have left it wet and slippery, so I bought some trekking poles for support on the hike down.
An old friend came to town to have dinner. We met in Aspen almost seven years ago and he changed my life. Once my best friend and the love of my life, he is now just an old friend and someone who has known me completely and loved me anyway. Walking through town after dinner he asked me why I was so in love with Aspen. I looked around, surrounded by the familiar sights and smells that make Aspen my home, and with an enormous smile I replied, “Even when it's bad, it is so good.”
Heartbreak is humbling. I am fortunate in that I was humbled into the arms of my friends. It felt like I hit the hard ground, but I know that my fall was softened by the ready hands, shoulders and words of my friends. Not wanting to be home alone I crashed on everyone'’s couch, I lost my pants in J and Da'’s loft, I got a pep talk from Brades that meant more than he knew. I drank wine with the other two badass brunettes, I ate take out with Riss, and Bean and I sang along loudly and badly to Air Supply. My dad called to say "“hi"” and I cried. I saw the knight at Bentley's with the new girl and I cried. I ran a stop sign that I could not see for tears and while the officer wrote up the ticket, I cried. I cried to El and El at work, I cried buckets on Beanie's couch, and in Cook's hug I cried until I finally laughed.
The descent was excruciating, but I had a lot of support.
I walked to my car last week to find that my front right tire was completely flat. Sadly, I had no idea what to do. Freezing and helpless I ran (in high heels) to find Ry-ry, who went to the gas station with me, showed me how to put air in my tire, and told me how to get to the tire store. My couch weighs five hundred pounds. Literally. It now rests beautifully on the second floor of my new apartment. I knew that I was going to need a little help to get it up the very narrow stair case so I made a few calls. I didn'’t say much and did my best to stay out of the way as the boys uncrated, disassembled, and maneuvered the couch up to my living room. Following the effort we sat on my front porch, basking in one of fallÂ’s last warm afternoons; me, my ex-boyfriend, his college roommates and my friend's soon-to-be ex-husband. My friends. Who needs frogs when I am surrounded by princes?
The day I moved to Aspen I found a group of people who have since become my friends. They have been my problem solvers, dog walkers, drinking buddies, ski buddies, confidants, counselors, and my cheerleaders. They have made me laugh, made me cry, made me drink, eat and sleep. I have been laughed with, laughed at, hugged, kissed, carried, thrown and drug. I have been listened to, understood, confided in and trusted. They have been my sisters, my brothers, my family, and I have been loved. I am loved.
Everyday I walk out of my front door and look around. I am surrounded by the mountains that I have known and loved all of my life, surrounded by my old familiar friends. Last night I walked under their comforting gaze to meet some other familiar faces. Perched on my usual seat at 39, surrounded by my friends, I laughed until I cried.
Only a few more times up the Ute until winter sets in for good. It is already snowy and icy up top, but not to worry, I have my trekking poles. I will miss my old friend but I will be skiing down the other side of the mountain in no time, on a healed but scarred knee, surrounded by friends who have seen me through it all.
Even when itÂ’s bad, it is so good. ThatÂ’s the beauty of living in Aspen. That is the beauty of living.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
THE GALS FROM DOWN UNDER.
Today marks the last day in town for all of my fabulous new Australian ladies that I met this winter. We had good times, good laughs, and plenty of availment! It was my pleasure to get to know all of you individually and collectively. Though you are all headed your separate ways, I know that the times we shared will not be soon forgotten. I would also like to thank you for introducing me to more new friends and for always being your sweet little selves. I know that you have all caught the Aspen bug, so I have no worries that I will see you again. If not, then I guess I'll just have to hop on down to your town. Thank you for the memories. Go get em' gals!
Today marks the last day in town for all of my fabulous new Australian ladies that I met this winter. We had good times, good laughs, and plenty of availment! It was my pleasure to get to know all of you individually and collectively. Though you are all headed your separate ways, I know that the times we shared will not be soon forgotten. I would also like to thank you for introducing me to more new friends and for always being your sweet little selves. I know that you have all caught the Aspen bug, so I have no worries that I will see you again. If not, then I guess I'll just have to hop on down to your town. Thank you for the memories. Go get em' gals!
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
I'M JUST A LONESOME LA COWBOY, HANGIN OUT AND HANGIN ON.
Well let me first thank The Shins for the text of my last post. That song seemed to some it up well that day. Well as I said my divorce is now final and oddly enough it hasn't felt at all like I thought it would. I thought there would be some sort of "free at last" feeling, but the party felt more like a funeral. As I signed the final documents to officially end the bond of David and Carrie Cook, I couldn't shake the felling that I was burying the ashes of a great friendship that was too scarred to repair. It was a sad day. Afterall, while the end of result was negative, the marriage definitely had it's good times. This person had been my best friend for a long time, and it's still weird not having that friendship to pull you through the tough times. It is as the say. The end of an era, the good thing is that it's the start of a new one. What will happen I have no idea. I just know that I'm a bit older, wiser, and harder. My heart though bruised still has hope. And hope is a magnificent thing. So here's to new beginnings, and new experiences. Cheers kiddies.
Well let me first thank The Shins for the text of my last post. That song seemed to some it up well that day. Well as I said my divorce is now final and oddly enough it hasn't felt at all like I thought it would. I thought there would be some sort of "free at last" feeling, but the party felt more like a funeral. As I signed the final documents to officially end the bond of David and Carrie Cook, I couldn't shake the felling that I was burying the ashes of a great friendship that was too scarred to repair. It was a sad day. Afterall, while the end of result was negative, the marriage definitely had it's good times. This person had been my best friend for a long time, and it's still weird not having that friendship to pull you through the tough times. It is as the say. The end of an era, the good thing is that it's the start of a new one. What will happen I have no idea. I just know that I'm a bit older, wiser, and harder. My heart though bruised still has hope. And hope is a magnificent thing. So here's to new beginnings, and new experiences. Cheers kiddies.
Friday, January 13, 2006
GONE FOR GOOD.
I will be posting some more personal reactions to today very soon, but I have had this song in my head for quite some time and so I am going to present you with it now. Let me know if you wants to hear it.
Untie me, I've said no vows
The train is getting way too loud
I gotta leave here my girl
Get on with my lonely life
Just leave the ring on the rail
For the wheels to nullify
Until this turn in my head
I let you stay and you paid no rent
I spent twelve long months on the lam
That's enough sitting on the fence
For the fear of breaking dams
I find a fatal flaw
In the logic of love
And go out of my head
You love a sinking stone
That'll never elope
So get used to the lonesome
Girl, you must atone some
Don't leave me no phone number there
It took me all of a year
To put the poison pill to your ear
But now I stand on honest ground, on honest ground
You want to fight for this love
But honey you cannot wrestle a dove
So baby it's clear
You want to jump and dance
But you sat on your hands
And lost your only chance
Go back to your hometown
Get your feet on the ground
And stop floating around
I find a fatal flaw
In the logic of love
And go out of my head
You love a sinking stone
That'll never elope
So get used to used to the lonesome
Girl, you must atone some
Don't leave me no phone number there
I will be posting some more personal reactions to today very soon, but I have had this song in my head for quite some time and so I am going to present you with it now. Let me know if you wants to hear it.
Untie me, I've said no vows
The train is getting way too loud
I gotta leave here my girl
Get on with my lonely life
Just leave the ring on the rail
For the wheels to nullify
Until this turn in my head
I let you stay and you paid no rent
I spent twelve long months on the lam
That's enough sitting on the fence
For the fear of breaking dams
I find a fatal flaw
In the logic of love
And go out of my head
You love a sinking stone
That'll never elope
So get used to the lonesome
Girl, you must atone some
Don't leave me no phone number there
It took me all of a year
To put the poison pill to your ear
But now I stand on honest ground, on honest ground
You want to fight for this love
But honey you cannot wrestle a dove
So baby it's clear
You want to jump and dance
But you sat on your hands
And lost your only chance
Go back to your hometown
Get your feet on the ground
And stop floating around
I find a fatal flaw
In the logic of love
And go out of my head
You love a sinking stone
That'll never elope
So get used to used to the lonesome
Girl, you must atone some
Don't leave me no phone number there
Thursday, December 29, 2005
HOLIDAZE
Where do I begin? This season has literally been flying by, look at your window you can probably see it. The season got kicked off with a big ass bang at the Saphire's first ever faux Christmas party. I say faux because, can you really call it a Christmas party if you have no tree? No lights? No fat guy in a red suit? You tell me, please. Well anywho, the party was a big success and as always was the busiest from 2-4. I had a lot of fun, and I think everyone else did as well, except for maybe the guys we kicked out, but they had it coming. If I may borrow a line from one of my favorite movies, " Do you realize that it's snowing in my bedroom!?!" Yes, I did realize it, and my carpet paid the price. I'll see you with your steam cleaners. Well after that I headed to the beautiful pacific NW to spend the real Christmas with the fam. It was very chill, and I had a good time hanging out with everyone, and getting to know my niece Z better, we are birthday twins after all you know. I am still very fond of ol' Seattle, and I realized I don't know the next time I'll be back, but I know I will someday. I hope you all had a good holiday week and got all the CRAP you wanted. So now I'm back to the Aspen CRAP, yeehaw. It's good to see you kids that I have seen and this weekend should prove to be an ass whippin, since me and most folks I know are working all weekend. That's the only way to go if you ask me, I am not about to pay a $200 cover to go to the places I go to for free all the time, but if you are I hope you have the time of your life. In closing I would like to steal another line, " I get by with a little help from my friends" and Baby, I am a rich man for that fact alone. You know who are and I love you all and thank you for everything. In case I don't get a chance to post before Saturday, Happy New Year everyone, I for one am ready for this one to be over.
Where do I begin? This season has literally been flying by, look at your window you can probably see it. The season got kicked off with a big ass bang at the Saphire's first ever faux Christmas party. I say faux because, can you really call it a Christmas party if you have no tree? No lights? No fat guy in a red suit? You tell me, please. Well anywho, the party was a big success and as always was the busiest from 2-4. I had a lot of fun, and I think everyone else did as well, except for maybe the guys we kicked out, but they had it coming. If I may borrow a line from one of my favorite movies, " Do you realize that it's snowing in my bedroom!?!" Yes, I did realize it, and my carpet paid the price. I'll see you with your steam cleaners. Well after that I headed to the beautiful pacific NW to spend the real Christmas with the fam. It was very chill, and I had a good time hanging out with everyone, and getting to know my niece Z better, we are birthday twins after all you know. I am still very fond of ol' Seattle, and I realized I don't know the next time I'll be back, but I know I will someday. I hope you all had a good holiday week and got all the CRAP you wanted. So now I'm back to the Aspen CRAP, yeehaw. It's good to see you kids that I have seen and this weekend should prove to be an ass whippin, since me and most folks I know are working all weekend. That's the only way to go if you ask me, I am not about to pay a $200 cover to go to the places I go to for free all the time, but if you are I hope you have the time of your life. In closing I would like to steal another line, " I get by with a little help from my friends" and Baby, I am a rich man for that fact alone. You know who are and I love you all and thank you for everything. In case I don't get a chance to post before Saturday, Happy New Year everyone, I for one am ready for this one to be over.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Here is the the latest from miss Huckleberry Tea. Enjoy
THE WAITING GAME
I spent the summer waiting for the other shoe to drop and it finally did. Be careful what you wait for.
I have been exceedingly hard on my heart lately and it is aching now. It is broken, I feel broken. And tired. I sat waiting for my knee’s sixth month check-up and had to laugh at how much has changed and changed again in a six months that has seen life fly and crawl by as I have hobbled, limped and walked in and out of this waiting room. My new ACL is better than the original but my knee is sore- it’s the screw, I’m screwed. They can remove it but that requires surgery, and well, post-surgery round one was a bit rough. Otherwise, spring’s injuries have healed splendidly, but fresh wounds of summer have taken their place.
I have always known that my life would not be ordinary. I don’t know what I am expecting, I just know that I am wild at heart and far from normal and my life won’t be normal either. And why am I referring to my life in future tense as if it is some thing that is going to happen one day? I am waiting for my life to start, expecting some magical thing to happen and set off the starter gun. But what am I waiting for?
This is the last thing that I want to admit, but I think that am waiting to be rescued. To be swept off of my feet and carried into my fairytale life. Or waiting at least for someone to come home to, stay up late talking with and snuggle into when I get cold or weary. But my life is happening right now, I can feel it pulsing through my wrist and pounding in my chest. This is my life, present tense, its happening and I am living it whether I notice or not. Look up princess, this is the fairytale. The white knight just rode off without me and its time to get off my fat throne, put on my glass stilettos and rescue myself.
Everyone but me seemed to know that I was headed toward inevitable heart ache. I’m not sure how many times people warned me about getting hurt as the summer progressed, but I heard it from everyone that I know and several people that I don’t. But I am me and decided that I’d take my chances, I just cannot walk away from head over heels, no matter the risk. Does being in love always have to mean living on the edge? I fell hard and have a soft heart, so I put a lot on the table. No regrets, it was my choice, my life; please keep your opinion to yourself. Besides somebody had to be the next person to break my heart. Stop, back up, wrong answer, self-pity just isn’t my style.
What about my knight? I am better for knowing him, better for loving him and better for losing him. I am sad and I miss my friend, but life and love continue. I will give my heart a break, but I will not follow our bears into hibernation. I still choose to see the best in people and I genuinely want the best for people, but I’ve learned that that road does not always go both ways. I will always be too trusting, but my eyes are a little less wide and a little more open. This is a small town, this is a tired subject and I am exhausted. But to whom it may ever concern, do not ever tell me that you want to “take a break,” it is called breaking up, breaking up, so please grow a pair and say it.
My life is not extraordinary. It is tremendously full, achingly vulnerable, so big and so small, it is unpredictable and beautiful and balances joyfully on the edge of longing and contentment. Ordinary it is not. And I am living it right now. This is the happily ever after. As for what may come?
I am hopelessly hopeful. So what am I waiting for?
THE WAITING GAME
I spent the summer waiting for the other shoe to drop and it finally did. Be careful what you wait for.
I have been exceedingly hard on my heart lately and it is aching now. It is broken, I feel broken. And tired. I sat waiting for my knee’s sixth month check-up and had to laugh at how much has changed and changed again in a six months that has seen life fly and crawl by as I have hobbled, limped and walked in and out of this waiting room. My new ACL is better than the original but my knee is sore- it’s the screw, I’m screwed. They can remove it but that requires surgery, and well, post-surgery round one was a bit rough. Otherwise, spring’s injuries have healed splendidly, but fresh wounds of summer have taken their place.
I have always known that my life would not be ordinary. I don’t know what I am expecting, I just know that I am wild at heart and far from normal and my life won’t be normal either. And why am I referring to my life in future tense as if it is some thing that is going to happen one day? I am waiting for my life to start, expecting some magical thing to happen and set off the starter gun. But what am I waiting for?
This is the last thing that I want to admit, but I think that am waiting to be rescued. To be swept off of my feet and carried into my fairytale life. Or waiting at least for someone to come home to, stay up late talking with and snuggle into when I get cold or weary. But my life is happening right now, I can feel it pulsing through my wrist and pounding in my chest. This is my life, present tense, its happening and I am living it whether I notice or not. Look up princess, this is the fairytale. The white knight just rode off without me and its time to get off my fat throne, put on my glass stilettos and rescue myself.
Everyone but me seemed to know that I was headed toward inevitable heart ache. I’m not sure how many times people warned me about getting hurt as the summer progressed, but I heard it from everyone that I know and several people that I don’t. But I am me and decided that I’d take my chances, I just cannot walk away from head over heels, no matter the risk. Does being in love always have to mean living on the edge? I fell hard and have a soft heart, so I put a lot on the table. No regrets, it was my choice, my life; please keep your opinion to yourself. Besides somebody had to be the next person to break my heart. Stop, back up, wrong answer, self-pity just isn’t my style.
What about my knight? I am better for knowing him, better for loving him and better for losing him. I am sad and I miss my friend, but life and love continue. I will give my heart a break, but I will not follow our bears into hibernation. I still choose to see the best in people and I genuinely want the best for people, but I’ve learned that that road does not always go both ways. I will always be too trusting, but my eyes are a little less wide and a little more open. This is a small town, this is a tired subject and I am exhausted. But to whom it may ever concern, do not ever tell me that you want to “take a break,” it is called breaking up, breaking up, so please grow a pair and say it.
My life is not extraordinary. It is tremendously full, achingly vulnerable, so big and so small, it is unpredictable and beautiful and balances joyfully on the edge of longing and contentment. Ordinary it is not. And I am living it right now. This is the happily ever after. As for what may come?
I am hopelessly hopeful. So what am I waiting for?
Monday, December 05, 2005
I'M MR. BRIGHTSIDE
It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this. It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss. Those are the words to a great song that are ringing so true it hurts. Let me say to all and you, I'm an idiot. I acted the fool last night and I don't know why. Maybe because I was a bit inebriated, but that's not really an excuse. I suppose I need to work on being the cool guy or some shit. I 'm pretty sure I screwed it all up, and that sucks because I have a lot of fun with you. You know I'm probably more like you than you think. I am timid about it as well. I don't know where I want it to go, I just know that I always enjoy myself when in your company, and it feels very natural. So if I totally effed the situation, I apologize. I know your a bit reluctant, and for reals so am I. I've been through a bunch of shit as I know you have as well. I try to play the game, but I do tend to wear my heart on my sleeve, so sometimes it really clouds my judgment. I know that I 'm not playing the game correctly when that happens, but you know that's the only way I know to play. If following my heart gets me into trouble, so be it. I would rather leave my heart open and have it get hurt sometimes, than be closed off to it. So here I am, heart on sleeve, a bit bruised, but alright. It's not all the way nice, and it's my fault. I know that much for sure. So for what it's worth, I still think your great, and your smile is not too bad either.
It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this. It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss. Those are the words to a great song that are ringing so true it hurts. Let me say to all and you, I'm an idiot. I acted the fool last night and I don't know why. Maybe because I was a bit inebriated, but that's not really an excuse. I suppose I need to work on being the cool guy or some shit. I 'm pretty sure I screwed it all up, and that sucks because I have a lot of fun with you. You know I'm probably more like you than you think. I am timid about it as well. I don't know where I want it to go, I just know that I always enjoy myself when in your company, and it feels very natural. So if I totally effed the situation, I apologize. I know your a bit reluctant, and for reals so am I. I've been through a bunch of shit as I know you have as well. I try to play the game, but I do tend to wear my heart on my sleeve, so sometimes it really clouds my judgment. I know that I 'm not playing the game correctly when that happens, but you know that's the only way I know to play. If following my heart gets me into trouble, so be it. I would rather leave my heart open and have it get hurt sometimes, than be closed off to it. So here I am, heart on sleeve, a bit bruised, but alright. It's not all the way nice, and it's my fault. I know that much for sure. So for what it's worth, I still think your great, and your smile is not too bad either.
Monday, November 28, 2005
Another oldie, but another goodie.
So here's my first short story kiddies, more personal CRAP to follow. Just a reminder, always looking for contributors, or at least some comments. Ash$ says's what up!
SEAT 17F
Her glasses were great. Big, bold, and black, and she never removed them on our entire three hour flight. Her hair was dark and wild, and poked out sporadically from her hood. It was hard to tell if her locks were brown or black without freaking the poor dear out by staring. She was sitting in her seat like there were flesh eating piranhas swimming below. She wasn't very big, but it was still somewhat amazing to see her fit her entire frame, feets and all, into an airline seat. At this point she began tearing pieces of the "free" magazine into tiny bits, oh so quietly, and discreetly. It was hard to tell if she was 17 or 27, but I could tell she was soft by the way she cleared her throat. Her toes were pink as if to match the bandana tied round her wrist. Seventeen you say, well you're probably correct, afterall her jacket was an army green eskimo style parka with the faux fur framing her masked identity with ease. She was a nervous wreck, or so it seemed. Maybe she's just full of energy, or she's totally spun, or perhaps horny as hell. "K<3R" was self tattooed with an erasable pen on the web between her left thumb and forefinger, which was why I thought she might be feeling the all too familiar pain of young despondent love. She had a tiny piece of string of which she incessantly wrapped and unwrapped round the digits of her lateral appendage until the little bit turned up as a large tangle of yarn which, perhaps, I just didn't notice before. She then began to wind the yarn into a brilliantly colored orb. Why was I fascinated with a ball of string? It's the not the string you say? Well, you may be on to something, I'll let you know.
I had not seen her in the airport, you know the type, it's like she crawled out of the overhead bin just before take off. Dark and sweet are things that make me think. Elusive in every way, and quite possibly the fact of the matter. This may be where I've gone awry in the past. I may have led myself to the bitch before when what I truly desired was the shy and quiet one who holds her secrets so tightly that even she has forgotten them herself. What are they and why do I care? Is it the game, the chase, or the girl? It seems strannge now that I didn't even notice the screaming child in the next row over because I was so captivated by the one I never met eyes with, and maybe that's just it. It's a mystery. You see, interesting types have always got my attention, but why? Was she really mysterious and interesting or were her clothes and body language helping her to play the role of a lifetime?
Is fantasy part of fantastic, or is that one of those things I shouldn't concern myself with? So maybe she's 27 because it appear's that she's turning those little "quiet" pieces of magazine into magic bindi's. Probably not, it's hard to tell. Got her! She's an artist, knew it all along. Right. She has musically transformed the bindi's into a collage of sorts and as far as art galleries at 30,00 feet go, I say her piece is good. It's hard to make ou,t but It must have something to do with that self impressed tattoo. I felt for her, for I had been there before, so punch drunk in some kind of love that nothing in the world would set my mind at ease. It has occurred to me now however, that I am most likely projecting who I want here to be.
Why do I want her to be this way? Is it to know that I am not the only one in the depths of my mind that is over analitical? I try to take a deep breath, but the faint scent of honey has my medulla fixated once again.
It's these awkward little bugs that tend to drive me wild. I want to say something to console her, to let her know that she is not alone in the universe, that there is someone in the seat right next to her that feels what she feels, that knows what it's like to to experience the pain. I try to think of a smalll gesture or sign I can giv e because I realize how I feel when some stranger speaks to me, especially on a plane.
And so I sit, not saying a word, At this point my thoughts turn to me and trying to get all of this fancy right out of my head. It's time to return my seat to the full upright position, and prepare for landing. I draw a correlation here. My life, my dreams, or flights of fancy, can be thought of as a three hour tour. I get up in the clouds and wonder, speculate, and worry. It's up in the cloudy reaches of my mind that I am able to dissipate these fears, but the longing remains. Upon touch down I am relaxed, and I feel as if I've grown a little. A little older, a touch wiser,a smidge softer, and the thing that puts me to rest is the realization that I am the girl in 17F. At least at 30,000 feet.
SEAT 17F
Her glasses were great. Big, bold, and black, and she never removed them on our entire three hour flight. Her hair was dark and wild, and poked out sporadically from her hood. It was hard to tell if her locks were brown or black without freaking the poor dear out by staring. She was sitting in her seat like there were flesh eating piranhas swimming below. She wasn't very big, but it was still somewhat amazing to see her fit her entire frame, feets and all, into an airline seat. At this point she began tearing pieces of the "free" magazine into tiny bits, oh so quietly, and discreetly. It was hard to tell if she was 17 or 27, but I could tell she was soft by the way she cleared her throat. Her toes were pink as if to match the bandana tied round her wrist. Seventeen you say, well you're probably correct, afterall her jacket was an army green eskimo style parka with the faux fur framing her masked identity with ease. She was a nervous wreck, or so it seemed. Maybe she's just full of energy, or she's totally spun, or perhaps horny as hell. "K<3R" was self tattooed with an erasable pen on the web between her left thumb and forefinger, which was why I thought she might be feeling the all too familiar pain of young despondent love. She had a tiny piece of string of which she incessantly wrapped and unwrapped round the digits of her lateral appendage until the little bit turned up as a large tangle of yarn which, perhaps, I just didn't notice before. She then began to wind the yarn into a brilliantly colored orb. Why was I fascinated with a ball of string? It's the not the string you say? Well, you may be on to something, I'll let you know.
I had not seen her in the airport, you know the type, it's like she crawled out of the overhead bin just before take off. Dark and sweet are things that make me think. Elusive in every way, and quite possibly the fact of the matter. This may be where I've gone awry in the past. I may have led myself to the bitch before when what I truly desired was the shy and quiet one who holds her secrets so tightly that even she has forgotten them herself. What are they and why do I care? Is it the game, the chase, or the girl? It seems strannge now that I didn't even notice the screaming child in the next row over because I was so captivated by the one I never met eyes with, and maybe that's just it. It's a mystery. You see, interesting types have always got my attention, but why? Was she really mysterious and interesting or were her clothes and body language helping her to play the role of a lifetime?
Is fantasy part of fantastic, or is that one of those things I shouldn't concern myself with? So maybe she's 27 because it appear's that she's turning those little "quiet" pieces of magazine into magic bindi's. Probably not, it's hard to tell. Got her! She's an artist, knew it all along. Right. She has musically transformed the bindi's into a collage of sorts and as far as art galleries at 30,00 feet go, I say her piece is good. It's hard to make ou,t but It must have something to do with that self impressed tattoo. I felt for her, for I had been there before, so punch drunk in some kind of love that nothing in the world would set my mind at ease. It has occurred to me now however, that I am most likely projecting who I want here to be.
Why do I want her to be this way? Is it to know that I am not the only one in the depths of my mind that is over analitical? I try to take a deep breath, but the faint scent of honey has my medulla fixated once again.
It's these awkward little bugs that tend to drive me wild. I want to say something to console her, to let her know that she is not alone in the universe, that there is someone in the seat right next to her that feels what she feels, that knows what it's like to to experience the pain. I try to think of a smalll gesture or sign I can giv e because I realize how I feel when some stranger speaks to me, especially on a plane.
And so I sit, not saying a word, At this point my thoughts turn to me and trying to get all of this fancy right out of my head. It's time to return my seat to the full upright position, and prepare for landing. I draw a correlation here. My life, my dreams, or flights of fancy, can be thought of as a three hour tour. I get up in the clouds and wonder, speculate, and worry. It's up in the cloudy reaches of my mind that I am able to dissipate these fears, but the longing remains. Upon touch down I am relaxed, and I feel as if I've grown a little. A little older, a touch wiser,a smidge softer, and the thing that puts me to rest is the realization that I am the girl in 17F. At least at 30,000 feet.
Friday, November 18, 2005
In an effort to get to the most recent writings of miss Huckleberry Tea I am posting the last three stories from the archives. Please read and comment with what you think. I'll have a short story that is basically CRAP up soon here after. Enjoy.
HUMBLY HUMAN
I am humbled by my capacity for anger. And I have never been the angry type. I have always been slow to anger and quick to let things go. But not this. This thing that happened has left this inexplicably persistent emotion that boils somewhere below the surface, just deep enough that I don’t see or feel it. The other day, without warning or provocation, it attacked, like a bird of prey. That is how I know its there. And I don’t like it.
I pride myself in being calm, rational and generally unaffected by things going on around me, or even things happening to me. And I have tried to deal with this issue in my usual peaceful and “everything happens for a reason” manner. I considered my words carefully and spoke with honesty and kindness, in as much as they could co-exist, to all who were involved. I had, I thought, succeeded in making the best of a difficult situation. But with a numbing of the senses and a casting off of inhibitions, the repressed feelings lurking below struck hard and fast. Like sharp arrows, the words shot out of my mouth and a physical rage surged through my body.
A sharp mind breeds a sharp tongue, without a doubt. But my words are almost always kept in check by a peaceful nature and a heart that knows better. I had no idea that this was inside of me.
And so I am reminded of my humanity. My actions that night hurt me worse than the person to whom they were directed. I was forced to face that fact that I cannot always face the world with a façade of emotional perfection. And I have to face the simple truth: I was hurt, I am hurt. Not hurt in a principled, self-righteous way; the explanation of which I have been trying to convince myself, but just plain hurt, in a vulnerable human way. And that is where this anger comes from.
I was betrayed and deceived and treated with far less respect than I deserved. My trust was taken advantage of. My friendship warranted much better behavior and complete forthrightness. That friendship, to which I was wholly devoted, was treated as disposable and insignificant. These things are certainly true and my principle driven argument on these facts can not be disputed nor can the behavior be justified. But anger does not come from principle. Anger comes from hurt. And I was hurt by someone that I care about. Hurt by someone that I love, by someone who knows my fallible human self. There is no way to avoid that truth, believe me, I have tried.
What happened was for the best, true. I am better off and much happier now, true. No part of this situation is my fault, true. I deserve much better, true. I am over the heartbreak and have been for some time, true. And I was hurt by someone that I care about. True.
The anger may be gone, I am not really sure. I don’t feel it and cannot really even conger any up if I try. Maybe it just took one unguarded moment to escape from my insides. Or maybe it will take time to slowly dissipate, working its way out through various outlets. Who knows how the heart works? I know for sure that I have tried and I cannot control mine. I have been humbled by my humanity.
IS BETRAYAL THE NEW BLACK?
I was informed last night that my recent brush with betrayal is actually a bit worse than I was previously led to believe. I’m not sure when the deceit stopped being hurtful and started being funny, but thankfully it happened some time ago, because the waterfall of truth pouring from Spring’s melting lies just keeps getting funnier.
While chatting with someone who did not know who my ex was, I said something that apparently clued him in, and I watched his eyes suddenly widen with epiphanic realization, “Oh, your that girl whose boyfriend was cheating on you with your friend. And everyone knew about it except you. And it started when you blew out your knee and had surgery?”
I laughed and answered with a smile, “Yeah, that’s me.”
Walking down the street with a friend the other day we contemplated and laughed about the casual relationship so many people seem to have with the truth these days. And moreover, we wondered why loving and lying so often go hand in hand. As we walked past some of Aspen’s more fashion forward clothiers, I glanced at a particularly bizarre ensemble and quipped, “Well maybe betrayal is the new black.”
One of my best friends, Ashley, told me yesterday not to fall in love for a while- so that I wouldn’t get hurt again anytime soon. I laughed and thanked her for the vote of confidence, but told her that I just don’t work that way. She said that she knew and loved me for it (but to try anyway). She called while celebrating the official termination of her marriage. The process of getting the divorce lasted longer than the marriage, and she has long since mourned the betrayal and broken dream that the freshly signed legal document represents.
On a less celebratory note, Aspen’s Heartbreak Hotel, a.k.a. my apartment, is occupied once again, by a dear friend at the opposite end of that road. The sadness of love lost and the remorse over promises broken is palpable.
Last night while brushing my teeth before bed I was overcome by a feeling of disorientation; I wondered if true, everlasting love was even possible any more. Was my entire life’s paradigm resting on a foundation of sand? Are people bound to betray, disappoint, fall short or simply lose interest and fall out of love?
Spit. Rinse.
I looked myself in the eyes; no way. I’m not buying that. Love may not always be easy, to find or to keep, but I know that it is possible. It has to be. The hope is buried too deep inside of me to be uprooted. I have too much, too much, too much. Too much love to give. Inside this body there is a partner, a lover, a mother, a friend, a companion, and a great many other things. And there is too much love to keep inside.
So I guess that means I will keep kissing frogs. I will give friendship and trust freely and I will love with out abandon. I will lavish those that I love with everything that I have to give. I will live without the fear of being hurt, because that is the only way that I know how to live. I will dive in head first and let you know how the water is, even if I do bump my head at the bottom.
So am I that girl? That girl who believes in soul mates, in love at first sight, in unconditional, till death do us part, make your heart skip a beat, happily ever after love?
Am I that girl?
You better fucking believe I am.
MY WHITE NIGHT
Revelers, dressed in all white, guzzled champagne, mingled and danced to the thumping beat of the bass and to the pounding of their own hearts. The majestic beauty of the mountains outside faded into a star filled black sky brilliant enough to outshine even the “beautiful” people inside, although I doubt that anyone thought to look up. So was the scene, high atop Red Mountain, a night so stunning, so bizarre, it was, as we decreed, the White Night.
The evening, which lasted well into the dawn, was one more exhibition, in an endless series, of Aspen’s fundamental dichotomy: nature’s raw splendor slamming into the contrived expressions of wealth it so conspicuously displays. Millionaires, billionaires, their sparkling trophies, and a sprinkling of jet setting cougars sipped martinis and noshed on lobster along side Aspen’s more beautiful personal trainers, bar backs and cocktail waitresses, while entrepreneurs, notable businessmen and local politicians casually talked business in the corner. A night like many others, in Aspen anyway. So on this night, of all nights, is it possible that I found my white knight?
I saw him walk in, in all white of course, and my whole body relaxed as he hugged me tight and I buried my face in his neck. For a few brief seconds the weight of my world and the weight of my body rested entirely on his. Without thinking I had given myself over, no hesitation, I trusted this person with, well, me. And at that moment I knew. I am in love.
It wasn’t love at first sight those many weeks ago; with my sight focused elsewhere, I wasn’t looking at anyone the night we met. But when I finally opened my eyes and saw him for the first time, I felt something. I didn’t know what it was, but it made my heart flutter and my cheeks blush. And it scared me just enough. The spark, the coy exchanges, the magnetic attraction and the something different quickly took an unexpected turn. Without warning, like a horse headed home, unbridled and driven by natural instinct, the feelings grew stronger, gained momentum and took off. And suddenly it seemed a lot like love.
But how can I know that that’s what this is? For this girl, who wants so badly to believe in the fairy tale, but who certainly knows better, I have to wonder: How do you know when it is truly love and not just your heart playing tricks on you?
Is love being swept off your feet and carried giddily off to bed or is it being lifted up off the ground because you don’t have the strength to stand on your own? Tears of joy are quickly and gingerly wiped away, but are the sad tears absorbed with such gentle understanding? Lip to lip or nose to nose? Body to body or hand in hand? Is it laughter from blissful happiness or laughing together through sorrow? Grand romantic gestures or daily thoughtfulness and generous affection? Wanting to take their breath away with your beauty or knowing that you are loved unconditionally? Love must be all of these things and so much more. It is a feeling and drive as complicated, dynamic and unpredictable and yet unchanging in spirit, simple and pure in its ideals, and inherently shaped by nature’s forces, as Aspen itself.
So how do you know? You don’t. I don’t anyway. But there is a moment when you simply let go, close your eyes, spread your arms wide open and say “love me.”
As the sun rose, once again revealing our town below and the valley beyond, my knight and I sat outside in the dawn’s still quiet, our head-to-toe whites still somehow spotless. We reveled in nature’s tranquil perfection, and in each other, hand in hand, to the sound of our own pounding hearts.
HUMBLY HUMAN
I am humbled by my capacity for anger. And I have never been the angry type. I have always been slow to anger and quick to let things go. But not this. This thing that happened has left this inexplicably persistent emotion that boils somewhere below the surface, just deep enough that I don’t see or feel it. The other day, without warning or provocation, it attacked, like a bird of prey. That is how I know its there. And I don’t like it.
I pride myself in being calm, rational and generally unaffected by things going on around me, or even things happening to me. And I have tried to deal with this issue in my usual peaceful and “everything happens for a reason” manner. I considered my words carefully and spoke with honesty and kindness, in as much as they could co-exist, to all who were involved. I had, I thought, succeeded in making the best of a difficult situation. But with a numbing of the senses and a casting off of inhibitions, the repressed feelings lurking below struck hard and fast. Like sharp arrows, the words shot out of my mouth and a physical rage surged through my body.
A sharp mind breeds a sharp tongue, without a doubt. But my words are almost always kept in check by a peaceful nature and a heart that knows better. I had no idea that this was inside of me.
And so I am reminded of my humanity. My actions that night hurt me worse than the person to whom they were directed. I was forced to face that fact that I cannot always face the world with a façade of emotional perfection. And I have to face the simple truth: I was hurt, I am hurt. Not hurt in a principled, self-righteous way; the explanation of which I have been trying to convince myself, but just plain hurt, in a vulnerable human way. And that is where this anger comes from.
I was betrayed and deceived and treated with far less respect than I deserved. My trust was taken advantage of. My friendship warranted much better behavior and complete forthrightness. That friendship, to which I was wholly devoted, was treated as disposable and insignificant. These things are certainly true and my principle driven argument on these facts can not be disputed nor can the behavior be justified. But anger does not come from principle. Anger comes from hurt. And I was hurt by someone that I care about. Hurt by someone that I love, by someone who knows my fallible human self. There is no way to avoid that truth, believe me, I have tried.
What happened was for the best, true. I am better off and much happier now, true. No part of this situation is my fault, true. I deserve much better, true. I am over the heartbreak and have been for some time, true. And I was hurt by someone that I care about. True.
The anger may be gone, I am not really sure. I don’t feel it and cannot really even conger any up if I try. Maybe it just took one unguarded moment to escape from my insides. Or maybe it will take time to slowly dissipate, working its way out through various outlets. Who knows how the heart works? I know for sure that I have tried and I cannot control mine. I have been humbled by my humanity.
IS BETRAYAL THE NEW BLACK?
I was informed last night that my recent brush with betrayal is actually a bit worse than I was previously led to believe. I’m not sure when the deceit stopped being hurtful and started being funny, but thankfully it happened some time ago, because the waterfall of truth pouring from Spring’s melting lies just keeps getting funnier.
While chatting with someone who did not know who my ex was, I said something that apparently clued him in, and I watched his eyes suddenly widen with epiphanic realization, “Oh, your that girl whose boyfriend was cheating on you with your friend. And everyone knew about it except you. And it started when you blew out your knee and had surgery?”
I laughed and answered with a smile, “Yeah, that’s me.”
Walking down the street with a friend the other day we contemplated and laughed about the casual relationship so many people seem to have with the truth these days. And moreover, we wondered why loving and lying so often go hand in hand. As we walked past some of Aspen’s more fashion forward clothiers, I glanced at a particularly bizarre ensemble and quipped, “Well maybe betrayal is the new black.”
One of my best friends, Ashley, told me yesterday not to fall in love for a while- so that I wouldn’t get hurt again anytime soon. I laughed and thanked her for the vote of confidence, but told her that I just don’t work that way. She said that she knew and loved me for it (but to try anyway). She called while celebrating the official termination of her marriage. The process of getting the divorce lasted longer than the marriage, and she has long since mourned the betrayal and broken dream that the freshly signed legal document represents.
On a less celebratory note, Aspen’s Heartbreak Hotel, a.k.a. my apartment, is occupied once again, by a dear friend at the opposite end of that road. The sadness of love lost and the remorse over promises broken is palpable.
Last night while brushing my teeth before bed I was overcome by a feeling of disorientation; I wondered if true, everlasting love was even possible any more. Was my entire life’s paradigm resting on a foundation of sand? Are people bound to betray, disappoint, fall short or simply lose interest and fall out of love?
Spit. Rinse.
I looked myself in the eyes; no way. I’m not buying that. Love may not always be easy, to find or to keep, but I know that it is possible. It has to be. The hope is buried too deep inside of me to be uprooted. I have too much, too much, too much. Too much love to give. Inside this body there is a partner, a lover, a mother, a friend, a companion, and a great many other things. And there is too much love to keep inside.
So I guess that means I will keep kissing frogs. I will give friendship and trust freely and I will love with out abandon. I will lavish those that I love with everything that I have to give. I will live without the fear of being hurt, because that is the only way that I know how to live. I will dive in head first and let you know how the water is, even if I do bump my head at the bottom.
So am I that girl? That girl who believes in soul mates, in love at first sight, in unconditional, till death do us part, make your heart skip a beat, happily ever after love?
Am I that girl?
You better fucking believe I am.
MY WHITE NIGHT
Revelers, dressed in all white, guzzled champagne, mingled and danced to the thumping beat of the bass and to the pounding of their own hearts. The majestic beauty of the mountains outside faded into a star filled black sky brilliant enough to outshine even the “beautiful” people inside, although I doubt that anyone thought to look up. So was the scene, high atop Red Mountain, a night so stunning, so bizarre, it was, as we decreed, the White Night.
The evening, which lasted well into the dawn, was one more exhibition, in an endless series, of Aspen’s fundamental dichotomy: nature’s raw splendor slamming into the contrived expressions of wealth it so conspicuously displays. Millionaires, billionaires, their sparkling trophies, and a sprinkling of jet setting cougars sipped martinis and noshed on lobster along side Aspen’s more beautiful personal trainers, bar backs and cocktail waitresses, while entrepreneurs, notable businessmen and local politicians casually talked business in the corner. A night like many others, in Aspen anyway. So on this night, of all nights, is it possible that I found my white knight?
I saw him walk in, in all white of course, and my whole body relaxed as he hugged me tight and I buried my face in his neck. For a few brief seconds the weight of my world and the weight of my body rested entirely on his. Without thinking I had given myself over, no hesitation, I trusted this person with, well, me. And at that moment I knew. I am in love.
It wasn’t love at first sight those many weeks ago; with my sight focused elsewhere, I wasn’t looking at anyone the night we met. But when I finally opened my eyes and saw him for the first time, I felt something. I didn’t know what it was, but it made my heart flutter and my cheeks blush. And it scared me just enough. The spark, the coy exchanges, the magnetic attraction and the something different quickly took an unexpected turn. Without warning, like a horse headed home, unbridled and driven by natural instinct, the feelings grew stronger, gained momentum and took off. And suddenly it seemed a lot like love.
But how can I know that that’s what this is? For this girl, who wants so badly to believe in the fairy tale, but who certainly knows better, I have to wonder: How do you know when it is truly love and not just your heart playing tricks on you?
Is love being swept off your feet and carried giddily off to bed or is it being lifted up off the ground because you don’t have the strength to stand on your own? Tears of joy are quickly and gingerly wiped away, but are the sad tears absorbed with such gentle understanding? Lip to lip or nose to nose? Body to body or hand in hand? Is it laughter from blissful happiness or laughing together through sorrow? Grand romantic gestures or daily thoughtfulness and generous affection? Wanting to take their breath away with your beauty or knowing that you are loved unconditionally? Love must be all of these things and so much more. It is a feeling and drive as complicated, dynamic and unpredictable and yet unchanging in spirit, simple and pure in its ideals, and inherently shaped by nature’s forces, as Aspen itself.
So how do you know? You don’t. I don’t anyway. But there is a moment when you simply let go, close your eyes, spread your arms wide open and say “love me.”
As the sun rose, once again revealing our town below and the valley beyond, my knight and I sat outside in the dawn’s still quiet, our head-to-toe whites still somehow spotless. We reveled in nature’s tranquil perfection, and in each other, hand in hand, to the sound of our own pounding hearts.
Monday, November 07, 2005
PLEASE BLEED.
Yeah, that's the dealio yo. I don't know why so stop asking. I 'll try to explain however. This is just how I've been feeling today, like I need to bleed. No it's not some morbid sick and twisted thought, it's just a feeling, so don't freak out. You know in the old days when someone was sick, or diseased they cut them and let them bleed out the bad spirits. Sounds crazy, right? Perhaps they were on to something. What if you could just bleed out the pain, sure it might hurt a bit and you might feel light headed, but don't I feel that way already? Hmmm... well I don't think it would actually work or I may have tried it by now. Tis like however a conversation that I had just recently with lil vin. It was much like tearing apart the sutchers from a nasty and infected wound that has scabbed over but not really healed the way it is supposed to. Supposed to, what an effing concept! What a load of CRAP. Who says what I am supposed to do, or what I am supposed to feel? That's right-ME. So I suppose, supposed to is whatever the hell I want, and since everything I do is my decision, supposed to do is what I want to do in my own life. So that nasty wound that hasn't healed the way it's supposed hasn't healed because it's not supposed to be healed yet. I don't want it to heal yet. I'll keep tearing it apart and bleeding it all night with lil vin for as long as it takes until I get to the point where I feel the wound is healing nicely, or at least nice enough for me. I would like to give it up however to my compatriate for pointing out the fact that my wound is not healing properly, for only a true friend will help you pull out the sutures so you can bleed. Thank you. I'll talk to you soon.
Yeah, that's the dealio yo. I don't know why so stop asking. I 'll try to explain however. This is just how I've been feeling today, like I need to bleed. No it's not some morbid sick and twisted thought, it's just a feeling, so don't freak out. You know in the old days when someone was sick, or diseased they cut them and let them bleed out the bad spirits. Sounds crazy, right? Perhaps they were on to something. What if you could just bleed out the pain, sure it might hurt a bit and you might feel light headed, but don't I feel that way already? Hmmm... well I don't think it would actually work or I may have tried it by now. Tis like however a conversation that I had just recently with lil vin. It was much like tearing apart the sutchers from a nasty and infected wound that has scabbed over but not really healed the way it is supposed to. Supposed to, what an effing concept! What a load of CRAP. Who says what I am supposed to do, or what I am supposed to feel? That's right-ME. So I suppose, supposed to is whatever the hell I want, and since everything I do is my decision, supposed to do is what I want to do in my own life. So that nasty wound that hasn't healed the way it's supposed hasn't healed because it's not supposed to be healed yet. I don't want it to heal yet. I'll keep tearing it apart and bleeding it all night with lil vin for as long as it takes until I get to the point where I feel the wound is healing nicely, or at least nice enough for me. I would like to give it up however to my compatriate for pointing out the fact that my wound is not healing properly, for only a true friend will help you pull out the sutures so you can bleed. Thank you. I'll talk to you soon.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Where do I start? Where does it end?
A lot of shiite has happened recently like I got fired (YAY!) and just a lot of stupid crap like that. Too much to mention everything, so you'll just have to take my word for it. Ahhh yes, Summer 05 will not be soon forgotten. So I am sitting here packing for my trip to Cali, to see the rents, the sis, and the friends. I am really looking forward to it, seeing as I have been in the valley since April. The mountains are great, but shit, they do get a bit closter (sp?) phobic when you are trapped in them for too long. I would like to take this opportunity to give a shout out to the fine folks at the unemployment office, who are still "processing" my claim. Yes, I'm sure it takes 6 weeks to figure out that my rent really is due! Go gov! You guys rock!!! Well, despite the mire of off season the Aspen Saphire did manage to throw a kickin Halloween party. The funny thing about Halloween parties is that you can never tell who anyone is, so I apologize if I grabbed your udder by mistake, I thought I knew that udder! Seriuosly, there was no udder grabbing, proving my point that in the history of Halloween, no guy has ever hooked up while dressed like a girl, unless he brought a girl with him. So needless to say, my fat ass was pregnant Britney for the shebang. It was quite fun, until the drama started, you know who you are, and it was still fun when the drama was over. Puh-leez peeps, enough drama alreads, ko? Good! So let's see here is the partial list of halloween costume accessories that I have found since the party: Britney's baby (not mine, the other Britney), K-Feds Hat, someone's back pack, Stewey Griffin's Head, A sceptor, a cow teat, Dr Phil Good's stethascope, a cereal box that had been stabbed, the phantoms mask, the zombies gloves, Bub's fro, and I am sure there was some other CRAP I forgot to mention. Not a bad collection all in all however. I was offered a job, yesterday at the prestigious Shadow Mountain Lounge at the St. regis, depending on the outcome of the "processing" of my stream, we'll see if I get the job afterall.
I guess things are mostly good, you know take the good with the bad, and all that crap. Thank the lord there is music, for with out it I would explode, implode, or decode. All of which are not my idea of fun. Here's some tunes that have gotten me through the past few. Let me know if you would like to schedule a private listening. I'll be on tour in Cali til the 15th. So if you come across some fabulous Aspen crap, you'll have to e-mail me and let me know. See you on the road...
Death Cab for Cutie-Plans
Depeche Mode-Precious
Kanye West- Late Registration (Thanks Free Spirit!!!)
Bloc Party-Silent Alarm Remixed
Nada Surf-The weight is a gift
Metric-Live it out
Ladytron-Witching Hour
Thievery Corporation-Richest Man in Babylon
Arctic Monkeys-I bet you look good on the dance floor
A lot of shiite has happened recently like I got fired (YAY!) and just a lot of stupid crap like that. Too much to mention everything, so you'll just have to take my word for it. Ahhh yes, Summer 05 will not be soon forgotten. So I am sitting here packing for my trip to Cali, to see the rents, the sis, and the friends. I am really looking forward to it, seeing as I have been in the valley since April. The mountains are great, but shit, they do get a bit closter (sp?) phobic when you are trapped in them for too long. I would like to take this opportunity to give a shout out to the fine folks at the unemployment office, who are still "processing" my claim. Yes, I'm sure it takes 6 weeks to figure out that my rent really is due! Go gov! You guys rock!!! Well, despite the mire of off season the Aspen Saphire did manage to throw a kickin Halloween party. The funny thing about Halloween parties is that you can never tell who anyone is, so I apologize if I grabbed your udder by mistake, I thought I knew that udder! Seriuosly, there was no udder grabbing, proving my point that in the history of Halloween, no guy has ever hooked up while dressed like a girl, unless he brought a girl with him. So needless to say, my fat ass was pregnant Britney for the shebang. It was quite fun, until the drama started, you know who you are, and it was still fun when the drama was over. Puh-leez peeps, enough drama alreads, ko? Good! So let's see here is the partial list of halloween costume accessories that I have found since the party: Britney's baby (not mine, the other Britney), K-Feds Hat, someone's back pack, Stewey Griffin's Head, A sceptor, a cow teat, Dr Phil Good's stethascope, a cereal box that had been stabbed, the phantoms mask, the zombies gloves, Bub's fro, and I am sure there was some other CRAP I forgot to mention. Not a bad collection all in all however. I was offered a job, yesterday at the prestigious Shadow Mountain Lounge at the St. regis, depending on the outcome of the "processing" of my stream, we'll see if I get the job afterall.
I guess things are mostly good, you know take the good with the bad, and all that crap. Thank the lord there is music, for with out it I would explode, implode, or decode. All of which are not my idea of fun. Here's some tunes that have gotten me through the past few. Let me know if you would like to schedule a private listening. I'll be on tour in Cali til the 15th. So if you come across some fabulous Aspen crap, you'll have to e-mail me and let me know. See you on the road...
Death Cab for Cutie-Plans
Depeche Mode-Precious
Kanye West- Late Registration (Thanks Free Spirit!!!)
Bloc Party-Silent Alarm Remixed
Nada Surf-The weight is a gift
Metric-Live it out
Ladytron-Witching Hour
Thievery Corporation-Richest Man in Babylon
Arctic Monkeys-I bet you look good on the dance floor
Monday, October 24, 2005
Ok biatches. It's been awhile, I know. Well the major fact it's been a while is cause my arse got effing fired!!! Yeehaw! Screw Aspen Mag, they can stick their crappy publication anywhere they want except up my ass any more. So I also moved in to mny new place, and it's been taking for-evah to get the damned internet set-up, so I apologize, I know you must be going crazy with me not posting regularly. Well don't worry, the ISP guy should be hookin me up on Wednesday. So til then...Why don't you replyu with a commment?
Thursday, October 06, 2005

Well, well, well. It's been a little while since my last post, and I know you kids are chomping at the bit to get some more CRAP from me, so here we go. Lately, I have been trying to embrace being alone. It's sometimes a difficult task, but if one is able to embrace it, it can be a beautiful experience. So I have been trying. That doesn't mean that I haven't broken any doors, or called anyone and beat them with the explative stick, sorry! Anywho it just means that I can once again listen to what I wan't and what I feel without the added pressure of taking someone else's thoughts and feelings into account. So it's a time of change, new discoveries, and old feelings. The fall is my favorite time of year, and always has been, it has also seemed to serve as a time to look inward at myself and see how I am doing. So how am I doing? Good question, I'll let you know when I figure it out. You know, some days are good, some are bad, and some are just there. I would like to take this time to say thank you and I love you to all my friends who help, encourage, and are there for me. You guys rock, no, you fraggle rock! I have also recently decided that I am going to tell my friends and family that I love them more often, so they know. Life is fragile, and wonderful. So today is a pretty good day, I dunno why, it just feels crisp and fresh. Maybe it's the air, maybe it's the breeze, maybe, just maybe it's a change in me.
"when there's no where else to run, is there room for one more son, one more son, if you can't hold on, if you can't hold on ...hold on."
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
THIS ASPEN GIRL
Here's an old post from Huckleberry Tea. Don't worry she be givin' us the new stuff soon.
Love at First Trip: Lessons Learned in Sayulita
Day 1, Lesson 1
No more tequila shots.
For me, too much tequila causes crying and other irrational behavior, even in Mexico, well especially in Mexico it seems. No bueno, no more.
Day 2, Lesson 2
The shrimp burrito at the Crusty Crab is not to be missed.
Loupe and Dalia whip up great guacamole, but their shrimp burrito is one of the best things that I have ever put in my mouth. I can not describe it, I can only assure you that it transcends any notions that you may have about burritos and it is worth the trip to Sayulita alone. Muy bueno. (I bet that you thought Lesson 2 would be about hangovers given the subject of Lesson 1, but technically that would not be a lesson, since I have already “learned” the hangover lesson many times over).
Day 3, Lesson 3
Sometimes, when you are falling out of love the best therapy is watching your friend fall into love, literally.
My friend Beanie is single and was looking for more than just a tan on our vacation. Nothing serious, just someone with whom she might share a few tequila shots, sunset walks on the beach, and moonlit smooches. Since I was on vacation with my ex (boy/ friend) and thus neither coupled nor on the prowl, I made the perfect wingman.
While walking on the beach, keeping our eyes open for cute beach fling prospects, we ran into Cute Pomeroy Guy, who I met when he sold me new skis after the ACL tear (I figured that buying new skis was like getting back on the horse). As I introduced him to Beanie she tripped on a rock and nearly fell head first into him. Short story shorter: She thought that he was cute, Sayulita is small, we were running into Pomeroy Cutie pretty frequently, and they were digging each other (he apparently was not put off by a little klutziness). As it turns out, what started as a sweet nothing in Mexico may turn into a sweet something in Aspen. I am an excellent wingman.
Day 4, Lesson 4
I am over the knee thing.
Enough is enough. The ACL experience has taken its toll, and while I am a better person for it, I am, officially, over it. It is just a ligament after all, one that people tear and repair all of the time. It will encumber my life no more, mind over matter. So I decided that I was going to do what I usually do when I am going through a life adjustment: Something that scares the hell out of me.
A few years ago I ended a long and serious relationship. Soon after, I found myself at the edge of an open airplane door of wearing a parachute. Turns out I love skydiving and now I have over twenty jumps. But for me, a far more terrifying notion than jumping out of a plane is attempting to surf. It is not so much the actual surfing part, but rather it is the falling and being tossed around in powerful moving water part, that gets me. I took a lesson in Maui last year (during a small “what the hell am I doing with my life?” quarter life crisis); my heart raced, I panicked, and each time that I fell I had to muster every ounce of composure to breathe, get back on the board and paddle back out.
The first time that I caught a wave I immediately understood how surfing could transform and consume people’s lives. I will never be a great surfer, not even a good one, but that isn’t the point. So against both my doctor’s orders and the suggestion of my physical therapist, I took my second surfing lesson. My heart raced and I panicked, but I did it, and I even caught a few waves. It felt good. I am, once again, one with my left knee.
Day 5, Lesson 5
Sometimes love is not enough.
As I mentioned, ex-boy/ friend was on this trip with me. For the most part we gave each other plenty of space. I was with the girls playing cupid, and he was with the boys, who did, in deed, go fishing.
But one interesting night found the two of us across town, sitting alone on a friend’s porch as the sun was about to rise. The walk home, through the village at dawn, cleared the air. It was tranquil and sweet and for the first time in a while, honest without being raw. It reminded me of why I love him. It even made me miss him a little.
But the week in Mexico answered any lingering questions that I had about the future of our romantic relationship. For me and my old mate, friends it is. Friends has always been what we do best.
Day 6, Lesson 6
Keep it simple.
Sayulita is a small village north of Puerto Vallarta. There are no big hotels, no ATM machines and not a single person walks around in a G-string bikini selling jello shots or three feet tall cocktails. The most common sounds are crashing waves, laughing children, barking dogs and the cock-a-doodle-doing of roosters. We had no cell phones, no TV’s, and no other mindless distractions. In other words, it was perfect. Plus, showering is optional. Paradise found.
Day 7, Lesson 7
You can find something without even knowing that you lost it.
Ten of us left Aspen, bound for Mexico, relieved that off-season had finally arrived. It was everyone’s first trip to the small Mexican surf town, and I had no idea what we might find in this place called Sayulita.
I love living in Aspen. From the moment that I moved to town I have been going full speed, trying to soak up everything that this valley has to offer. It has, so far, been a fun and wild ride filled with new friends, new experiences and a new mountain lifestyle that I love. I truly cannot imagine wanting to live anywhere else. I have, however, not spent much time being still and quiet in recent months.
In Sayulita, with no distractions and the fortune of being the earliest riser, I spent my mornings outside alone, peacefully looking at the ocean, reminded of how nice quiet sounds. As the sun rose I watched the color of the sky change, and I was, finally, completely still.
I became aware that I had, in many ways, lost sight of myself. And my less than ideal and uncharacteristic behavior in dealing with life’s recent tumult was an indication of just that. I was becoming someone that I don’t want to be. But in the quiet of Sayulita I started listening to myself again, and I got back to being me. I realized that I was not falling out of love; I was falling back in love, with myself.
Here's an old post from Huckleberry Tea. Don't worry she be givin' us the new stuff soon.
Love at First Trip: Lessons Learned in Sayulita
Day 1, Lesson 1
No more tequila shots.
For me, too much tequila causes crying and other irrational behavior, even in Mexico, well especially in Mexico it seems. No bueno, no more.
Day 2, Lesson 2
The shrimp burrito at the Crusty Crab is not to be missed.
Loupe and Dalia whip up great guacamole, but their shrimp burrito is one of the best things that I have ever put in my mouth. I can not describe it, I can only assure you that it transcends any notions that you may have about burritos and it is worth the trip to Sayulita alone. Muy bueno. (I bet that you thought Lesson 2 would be about hangovers given the subject of Lesson 1, but technically that would not be a lesson, since I have already “learned” the hangover lesson many times over).
Day 3, Lesson 3
Sometimes, when you are falling out of love the best therapy is watching your friend fall into love, literally.
My friend Beanie is single and was looking for more than just a tan on our vacation. Nothing serious, just someone with whom she might share a few tequila shots, sunset walks on the beach, and moonlit smooches. Since I was on vacation with my ex (boy/ friend) and thus neither coupled nor on the prowl, I made the perfect wingman.
While walking on the beach, keeping our eyes open for cute beach fling prospects, we ran into Cute Pomeroy Guy, who I met when he sold me new skis after the ACL tear (I figured that buying new skis was like getting back on the horse). As I introduced him to Beanie she tripped on a rock and nearly fell head first into him. Short story shorter: She thought that he was cute, Sayulita is small, we were running into Pomeroy Cutie pretty frequently, and they were digging each other (he apparently was not put off by a little klutziness). As it turns out, what started as a sweet nothing in Mexico may turn into a sweet something in Aspen. I am an excellent wingman.
Day 4, Lesson 4
I am over the knee thing.
Enough is enough. The ACL experience has taken its toll, and while I am a better person for it, I am, officially, over it. It is just a ligament after all, one that people tear and repair all of the time. It will encumber my life no more, mind over matter. So I decided that I was going to do what I usually do when I am going through a life adjustment: Something that scares the hell out of me.
A few years ago I ended a long and serious relationship. Soon after, I found myself at the edge of an open airplane door of wearing a parachute. Turns out I love skydiving and now I have over twenty jumps. But for me, a far more terrifying notion than jumping out of a plane is attempting to surf. It is not so much the actual surfing part, but rather it is the falling and being tossed around in powerful moving water part, that gets me. I took a lesson in Maui last year (during a small “what the hell am I doing with my life?” quarter life crisis); my heart raced, I panicked, and each time that I fell I had to muster every ounce of composure to breathe, get back on the board and paddle back out.
The first time that I caught a wave I immediately understood how surfing could transform and consume people’s lives. I will never be a great surfer, not even a good one, but that isn’t the point. So against both my doctor’s orders and the suggestion of my physical therapist, I took my second surfing lesson. My heart raced and I panicked, but I did it, and I even caught a few waves. It felt good. I am, once again, one with my left knee.
Day 5, Lesson 5
Sometimes love is not enough.
As I mentioned, ex-boy/ friend was on this trip with me. For the most part we gave each other plenty of space. I was with the girls playing cupid, and he was with the boys, who did, in deed, go fishing.
But one interesting night found the two of us across town, sitting alone on a friend’s porch as the sun was about to rise. The walk home, through the village at dawn, cleared the air. It was tranquil and sweet and for the first time in a while, honest without being raw. It reminded me of why I love him. It even made me miss him a little.
But the week in Mexico answered any lingering questions that I had about the future of our romantic relationship. For me and my old mate, friends it is. Friends has always been what we do best.
Day 6, Lesson 6
Keep it simple.
Sayulita is a small village north of Puerto Vallarta. There are no big hotels, no ATM machines and not a single person walks around in a G-string bikini selling jello shots or three feet tall cocktails. The most common sounds are crashing waves, laughing children, barking dogs and the cock-a-doodle-doing of roosters. We had no cell phones, no TV’s, and no other mindless distractions. In other words, it was perfect. Plus, showering is optional. Paradise found.
Day 7, Lesson 7
You can find something without even knowing that you lost it.
Ten of us left Aspen, bound for Mexico, relieved that off-season had finally arrived. It was everyone’s first trip to the small Mexican surf town, and I had no idea what we might find in this place called Sayulita.
I love living in Aspen. From the moment that I moved to town I have been going full speed, trying to soak up everything that this valley has to offer. It has, so far, been a fun and wild ride filled with new friends, new experiences and a new mountain lifestyle that I love. I truly cannot imagine wanting to live anywhere else. I have, however, not spent much time being still and quiet in recent months.
In Sayulita, with no distractions and the fortune of being the earliest riser, I spent my mornings outside alone, peacefully looking at the ocean, reminded of how nice quiet sounds. As the sun rose I watched the color of the sky change, and I was, finally, completely still.
I became aware that I had, in many ways, lost sight of myself. And my less than ideal and uncharacteristic behavior in dealing with life’s recent tumult was an indication of just that. I was becoming someone that I don’t want to be. But in the quiet of Sayulita I started listening to myself again, and I got back to being me. I realized that I was not falling out of love; I was falling back in love, with myself.
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