The price of being awake.

It’s less than nine days till the 37th Moose Pass Solstice Festival, and I am in charge of the food booth which will serve at least a thousand people over two days. And I’ll be damned if it doesn't feel like I am treading water in soup while I am at it.
It happens slowly, even somewhat gently at first. The gradual and inexorable drain, going almost unnoticed midst the heady pace of a life being lived... but I feel it all the same. It’s a sneaky pull by events out of my control at my heatedly disputed reserve energy tank. You know the one I’m talking about. It’s how you always managed to be tanked up and ready to rock when you were 19 in case of impromptu partying or a road trip, or something shiny... And it didn’t matter if you had only slept twenty-seven minutes in the back seat of an Impala and you smelled like cheap vodka and burned hair… Then suddenly the snap is out of your rubber band. Suddenly, you forgot why you have the rubber band in the first place. 
Time passes so quick…

The Time Has Come

perhaps the time has come for ruthless honesty
before things get too carried away...
 It's only fair To let you know The truth As best as I 
possess it.
I will never be What I was 
alluded  to be.
will never be dependably what you suppose I'm s'posed to be.
I will disappoint with avarice, exasperate with magniloquence frustrate, even frighten sometimes with the malignance of the murder in me, with the stark breadth of my apathy, And the consciousness of my gluttony.
 blinded by fatalistic pessimism, shameless in my self-promotion, Falling down, Falling prey Slipping further In to 
lethargy In to 
vanity, In to 
misdirected yearning...
There are two ways to leave this chamber Free or not free.
The choice has always been yours.

Why I hate the Superbowl... and what to do when you run out of underpants...

Yep, Naked.

Some days after I read the news, it is all I can do to not scream till I am hoarse, while throwing a ten-ton hissy-fit. I feel like that boy in the story who is pointing out that the emperors junk is exposed and everyone just wants to shush him while continuing to pretend the emperor could not possibly be naked, in fact it's the most splendid suit that has ever been crafted… Of BULLSHIT! Yes, I'm going to say it. The President is naked. Our Congress is naked. The Senate? Yup, naked too. Here's the really sad part; Everybody already knows.
It’s like they kicked off some immense toga party a really long time ago, hmm, togas... hey wait,  Romans… Nero, something about fiddling while Rome is burning...starting to see some correlations here… Caligula, appointing a horse as senator… but I digress… So while we the people are busy waging war (Because the ignominious “they” have sold us the dubious fear of yet another govt./person over something tragically nonsensical.  Again. I.E. oil tha…

Cowards and how to make a soufflé...

I have a bitch to pitch. So bear with me or soldier on, matters not to me. I won't be offended...
Here's the thing, I can't email the people I am actually mad at because it would make things so much worse..., but if I don't name names and just spew here, perhaps it will make me feel better? Nes pa?

Most people know that my husband of over four years (four years? Really? How time flies when you are being shunned...) oh yeah, I digress, husband of four years... spent time in prison. A lot of it. Ten years to be exact. He has been out over four years (no I did not meet and/or marry him while he was inside sheesh) with few issues on his parole record aside from forgetting to attend a few appointments (Homer noise *DOH!*) and the alternative health processes of his life-mate. All in all, he has been primarily very successful in his re entry, but not without a very important component. The thing most people lack when they are coming out of their self-imposed exi…

Monsters within....

What made me stop looking under the bed? I never stopped to think of that time when I became the monster I was most afraid of. I never stopped to question why it was that I was now struggling more with myself than with the people who come and go in my life.

It's the rage mostly that I can't seem to let go of. It rumbles deep.... somewhere in the viscera of me is this wretched pulsating anger that keeps explosively erupting when I know I just need to slow down and get a grip.

Just breathe, I tell myself. Count to ten or twenty or eleventy-million if necessary. But instead, more often than I would like, there it is. And all I want to do is scream and howl and vomit acid on whoever has happened to unknowingly trip the wire. Though I swear sometimes it feels alot like it is done purposefully... as if the people know, instinctively that this moment is the one where I won't be able to control myself. And afterward I always feel like such a fool. Saddened by my lack of rational sel…