Sometimes you just need to change your underwear

Have you ever had one of ‘those‘ days?

A day where nothing seems to go right?

One where you spend way too much time fighting with hair that refuses to stay the course, ride the center line of your head-road because it has another destination in mind?

Somewhere…out there ——–>^<<^>>^<>>>

Where no hair has gone before?

(ooooh weeeee bum bum bum bum buuuuuum)

Yeah, out there

mommy hair

What?
W A I T 
What?

The bags under your eyes are big enough to hold your winter wardrobe and dark enough to draw questions like “Hey, when’d’ya have a nose job?”

black eyes

One of those “I have nothing to wear” days because everything you put on feels both to small and too big at the same time?

Even your SHOES?

Does anyone else see Sigourney Weaver hiding in a space closet here?

I could have SWORN these fit yesterday!

I could have SWORN these fit yesterday!

So gawdawful a day that whatever you put in your mouth tastes like yesterday’s leftovers of last week’s Sunday supper?
(so bad that the furball the cat gagged up would be more appetizing?)

Do NOT ask!

Do NOT ask!

The blind man driving the thought truck through the dirt roads in your head is making you dizzy from all the twists and turns and stops and starts while he tries to figure out where the hell he’s going?

Pull over you idiot I'm gonna be sick!

Pull over you idiot
I’m gonna be sick!

Okay, you get the idea.

I had one of those days yesterday.
What didn’t make me cry, made me mad
What didn’t make me mad, made me cry

I stood looking out the back door
Leaking like a sieve, both from the eyes and from the mouth (#$%^$$%^$)
But, as luck would have it, we were ready to leave
We had made arrangements to meet Supe and others at the only watering hole in town

To raise a glass to the glory of the day, as every day Supe’s willing and able to be out is a good day
And here I was, bitchin’ and moanin’ about it

So…I turned my thoughts inward

And what do you suppose came to mind?

I HATE my underwear

I HATE my underwear

Then I wondered what I could possibly do to help turn this day around
I stood there searching and feeling every inch of myself

Physically and mentally

Wonder what men feel like in THEIR underwear? (oooooh...eenie meenie minie mo' mo' mo') :)

Wonder what men feel like in THEIR underwear?
(oooooh…eenie meenie minie mo’ mo’ mo’)
🙂

(Ooops…wrong mental picture. This was not one for you)

Heeeere Kitty Kitty

Heeeere Kitty Kitty

(Damn, not that one either…)

I left the doorway, went upstairs, stripped from the waist down, and got redressed

Having changed but one thing

…and you’ve likely guessed what that one thing is by now

Ahhhh, that's better!

Ahhhh, that’s better!

But, by God it helped.

It helped a LOT.

So…I’ve come to this conclusion:

When you have one of ‘those‘ days?

Check your underwear…it all starts with the foundation!

Baaaaaaad Foundation

Baaaaaaad
Foundation

(don’t laugh…we all know the foundation is key!)

Goooood

Goooood
Foundation

I’ll leave you with one last thought…

The power of positive thinking is a great tool – an awesome tool   and one I try to take out of my tool box every day

But on those days when the thoughts can’t be tooled with tools alone?

Go down underwear nothong….(hehe – nevermind!)

You get the idea 😉

Go in peace and good fitting underwear

(*thanking the internet for the images this time, for once, they are not my own.  phew)

Demon

There are times, quite often in fact, when we let our experiences dictate the path of our lives. Usually, the bad ones, or the self-destructive ones…it’s surprisingly harder to stand up than it is to fall down. I’m sharing Kyle’s post DEMON for the very reason that I struggle daily with my own demons and it’s always comforting to know I am not alone. Equally so, to have a friend who can bear the naked truth of the dark side of some of our choices yet show there is light to be found…IF we are willing to look. Thank you Kyle.

 

kyle mew

they’re a bunch of fucking natives, and they spout all this hippie shit about self-discovery and journeys into my soul and what-not. i nod politely and agree, but just so as to be polite. i don’t want to offend them, but its all a load of crap as far as i’m concerned. i’m here for the trip of my life. i’ve heard about these mushrooms, ever since i started taking drugs. the most powerful hallucinogenic on the planet. the trip of a lifetime. they are legendary and until now, i wasn’t even sure they existed at all.
i look at the pile of goo the old woman spits onto the plate. i understand why she has to chew the mushrooms first. she has been doing this for years, and there are enzymes in her saliva that will break down the mushrooms and prevent me from vomiting too much. novices have…

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who what where when why & how

who am i that i’m not enough or is it that i’m too much trouble?

who are you that you are there yet are not there at the same time?

what is a morning without the light that makes the day shine?

what good is the cup half full without flavor happiness adds to it?

where is my mind when i reach for something, anything, to pull me from this quicksand and what i grab is a ghost?

where do i go when the only place i want to be is safe?

when will you stop being on the tip of my tongue and heavy on my heart?

when will the idea of you stop being the first thought each day and the last prayer at night?

why do i love and need you?

why do you not?

&

how silent are the days without the music a happy heart makes?

how long are the nights knowing there will be nothing but dreams that lead to empty places?

a dozen questions

one answer

a dozen answers

one meaning

nothing

god

how i miss you

For the Love of a Damned Good Conversation

I was working on a post this morning, having to do with the tons of fun in the sun trying to sell a house in today’s market (yeah, right), when as often happens, a short sidestep away from the center line resulted in being led down another dirt road.  But that’s life, especially my life, as I live for the treks down the less traveled dirt.

This particular step off the line was a conversation with a friend that began with small talk about the Gawd awful heat wave and remedies for sun burns, meandered to the pros and cons of having your home and all its contents spread all over the air waves for any ol’ burglar to scope out, tip-toed into current affairs generally and recent events in the Florida courts specifically, then naturally (!?!) morphed into what it must be like for a child to be raised in a Muslim household that forbids TV, radio, music, internet, and playing with children not of their own religion.

Don’t you just LOVE these conversations that sprout tentacles like a giant squid?  I do…I love the random nature of them almost as much as the feeling of comfort I get knowing we can talk about anything…all at once!  Very stimulating to say the least.

Anyway, post Muslim life discussion, from which we both came away thinking we’d like to try our hand at reading the Koran, the conversation jumped the broom to religion in general.  While one of use believes and the other does not, one thing is certainly true:  Where we find intolerance, bigotry, segregationist thinking, there is usually a religious aspect fueling it.  If we are ever to see the day when our planet’s caretakers can live in true peace and brotherhood…religious fanaticism or extremists, of any kind, must see the end of days.

This of course ‘evolved’ into, well, evolution.  Which as a non-believer in religion of any kind, is in fact, the religion of choice.  Past the talk of apes and chimps, we discussed how humans are shown to have an innate ability to share.  Yup.  Share.  Which of course led to whether being kind and empathetic is genetics or learned, and whether lesser traits, like competing in all respects, is too, learned or innate.  Survival of the fittest after all, with no moral force guiding it?  For the non-believer, the take is that we are just naturally a ‘nice’ animal.  For me, the believer, I tended to agree, but still harbor some doubt.  I do think, that while certain characteristics of humans are innate, most are learned behaviors. Basically, nature vs. nurture.  An old and forever on-going topic of discussion that has its own, very long, dirt path.  We discussed why certain behaviors occur in some animals and not in others.

For instance, the beaten dog.  How can a dog who knows mostly pain from the hand of its human, still find it within itself to lick that very hand the few times it might be extended in what one could only marginally be described as love?  It’s insane.  Yet, it happens all the time.  However, for a child to be reared in the same way, the risk is far, far greater, that the result could just as easily be a non-empathetic psychopath as it could be a loving, thriving, kind, and generous, human being.  Is that a choice? Nature vs. nurture again?  I used myself as an example, and even so, I still have doubts about it…or maybe doubt is too strong a word.

I have questions.

Being a victim of childhood sexual abuse (The year that broke the dam) from the ages of 5 to 14 and a victim of rape at the age of 19, one could imagine that I could have become a bitter, angry, mean-spirited, non-trusting, love-hating person.  But I didn’t (Back on the Road).  I’m like the beaten dog…and I don’t mean to sound overly dramatic here…it’s more a visual aide.  I live a life filled with as much love as there is hate; as much beauty as there is ugliness; as much need for love, both to give and to receive, as distrust of it.  So, it begs the question…was this my choice? Or was I bound by genetics to grow into a woman with a heart and huge capacity for empathy?  I don’t know.

But here’s the rub, and ultimately, the reason for our long stroll down these particular paths…in speaking with this friend, it was pointed out ardently, that I do, in fact, have a wonderful heart, a good and strong personality, a huge capacity for love, and that (this is the key) I’m beautiful on the inside.

Ah yes…the beauty within vs. the beauty without (is that the term? doesn’t sound right, but you know what I mean).  I, for one, actually HATE that phrase.  I love that I am, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a double-edged sword for me.  I fell into the trap long, long ago, that it’s more important, at least initially, to be more beautiful on the outside. It has been my experience, and I just may have to take the responsibility for it  (Delusional Illusions), that people who could not see beyond the surface passed me by without a second glance and without having the pleasure of getting to know me.  I’m not alone.  I’m certainly not unique in my thinking this is the way of things. I say honestly, if it was a choice to be the way I am, it was not an easy one, but for me, the only one.  Why? Genetics? Nurture? (shrugging shoulders still)

So while I do still struggle with this question, the conversation, for all its meandering, did help me see that hard or not, choice or not, I am on the right path.  My path. And if Joe Blow from Kokomo chooses to walk by me because I don’t look like a Playboy centerfold…I say one thing (well, I say it behind his back ’cause I’m nice)…

Fuck You!

We are all beautiful…let’s get to the heart of it, shall we?

IMG_7683

Yes…my photo…and yes, I draw hearts in the snow…and the sand…and the dirt…it’s just how I roll.