Friday, August 18, 2006

3 is the Magic Number

After my Bastard, I mean, uhh, Grandfather's death and then my aunt Debbie's death and now my friend Galen's death - I am just pretty damned sick and tired of all this!! They say they come in threes, so I had better damned well be done!! Good God. All of this in the course of like 45 days or something - Shit God-Damn!

It's too much.

Add to that changing jobs, changing relationship status, change, change, change!!

I'm done. Needless to say the blog has suffered. Also because I discovered myspace - the bastard sister of blogging. Such a cheap substitute. This is where I really belong though. This is home. I'm not going too far, don't fret.

Three . . . used to mean something so different to me. Huh.

Sunday, August 06, 2006

My Aunt Debbie

So, we were all at Lake Powell. We had the houseboat docked in this private cove that created our own private lake that we could ski around and kayak in and it was smooth and big and fun and perfect. Well, Debbie wanted to learn to waterski. But she was too afraid to try starting in the water and wanted to start from the beach like in the old Franky and Annette movies. Hopefully you can already smell the disaster of this scenario . . .

She tried and tried and tried. She never skied. The worst part was that she wouldn't let go after each failed attempt - she just held on and belly-flopped around the cove. We were all, of course, laughing our asses off and couldn't believe how willing she was to look a fool just to try to have a good time. She fully sucked the marrow out of life and cared about experiencing and soaking everything in more than she cared about anything else.

That's what made her one of the most beautiful, wise, fun and wonderful people I've ever known.

Then, at Disney Land, she would give the ride attendents a huge sob story and really ham it up when they wouldn't expedite us to the front of the line. She would tell them all about chemo and how miserable it was and how lucky she felt to be having a "good" day, while over their shoulder she's winking at us and giving us the thumbs up. She bought an avaiation micky hat and wore it without her wig. She looked like she was about 7 with the crooked ears perched on her swolen round face.

You couldn't be uncomfortable with her illness, her cancer, because she wasn't uncomforatable - she just wanted to tell you to enjoy life and do breast self-exams and have fun.

That's all.

That was her broken record message. But more importantly was the broken record message she didn't say: the broken record message that she lived. That was the message of unconditional love and NEVER giving a shit what anyone thinks of you - just have fun!

Her baby already misses her. I already miss her. To keep her here would be selfish, but letting go . . . I'm not sure how to do. I'm glad she's in a better place, wherever that is. I just wish that better place could be here.

Friday, August 04, 2006

Hard Day's Night

It's been a hard day's night . . . after being declined for a minor purchase ($150, I guess I need to transfer money into my checking account) and then losing the aforementioned declined card after dinner when it was time to pay the bill it really set the precedent for a rough evening . . . then I came back to work to bring G. leftover sushi and started crying over my dying aunt and was sitting on the desk and he was standing up between my legs hugging me and our VP of Marketing walked in . . . it's 11:15pm, what the hell is he doing here? I just can't take anymore. I know this was supposed to be a fantasy Tuesday, but it's Friday and I don't feel like fantasizing right now.

My heart hurts.

Last night was so much better. The night before was so much better. Tomorrow night will be so much better.

He is so beautiful. In our new office we sit across from eachother in our own private office. He makes my heart hurt less. That's where I am right now - in my office trying to cope with the hurt effectively by blogging.

Anyway . . . what a bummer this post is. I should be done.

Thanks for listenin' . . .

Monday, July 31, 2006

There is a season . . .

Turn, turn, turn . . .

So. It's official. This is an altruistic blog - I haven't had a comment in days.

Been having a lot of changes in my life lately, and I've got another one to pile on the heap. It looks like I'm gonna be changin' jobs this week. It's a promotion :) with a new start-up company and they're paying me the salary I asked :) and the very, very, very most bestest part? G is comin' with me!! That's right! We went to this startup company that is a miracle at what they do and know their product well and have a great market and such - but they're a mess operationally! Sooooo . . . my beautiful boy and I are going in to kick some operational ass and implement structure!! I will be the Site Director and he will be the Operations Manager!! How fuckin' cool is that? Oh, he got the salary he asked for also. We keep sayin' we're gonna take over the world and here we are - takin' over!! We are super mcduper excited!! We are thrilled at this opportunity to be creative and be building something important and play key roles and be challenged and all that such stuff . . . we are also super thrilled to be doing it together!! We have the MOST amazing synergy - it's crazy awesome! He compares us to two pyramids; one upside down and one right side up - each of our bases are our strengths and our tips are our weaknesses and since each of us are faced different ways my strengths are his weaknesses and my weaknesses are his strengths and we compliment each other pretty damned perfectly!! Plus, put them together and they make a trapezoid and trapezoids are just plain cool. Do you have any idea how lovely it is to be told how perfectly you fit with someone by the someone you are madly in love with when they are referring to themselves? Okay, this is a mess . . . I'm incoherent and rambling . . .

The point is change. The point is happiness. The point is I'm gloating a bit lately, maybe that's why nobody wants to read.

K - maybe this isn't an altruistic blog - maybe I want to write some erotica or something that will get me some friggin' readers with something to say rather than responding to my endless gloating with "bloody good fuh you ya filfy bugga". Okay, who exactly is it that I think reads my blog and talks that way? I'm pretty sure no one. What am I? I really wonder sometimes. I'm such a weirdo . . .

Fine, erotica tomorrow. It will be Tuesday after all . . .

SUNDAY

S-Sex. Yep, that's right. And lots of it. Good sex. Great sex. Mind-blowing, earth-shattering, transporting to another dimension of ecstasy and erotic delights sex. Night sex. Day sex. And all kinds of play sex . . . pardon my Dr. Seuss moment - it's just I'm still a little drunk off of the passion of my amazing sexcapades. So good. So happy. So content. So fulfilled.

U-Unsuccessfully trying to block out the "we're taking space" thing in regard to the above mentioned romp. Not sure what this all means - just trying to take it one day at a time and enjoy the moment. There have been many good moments today.

N-Napped after the big sex-fest and stayed in bed for hours writing, reading, lounging . . . what a great way to end a day of sex. Did you see the "S" today? "S" is for sex this Sunday and boys and girls, it is the greatest "S" there is . . .

D-Did I mention sex? Because I had some - and I even shared it. There's a dirty rap song that has the lyrics "you bring your friends I'll bring my friends we can be friends" and guess what? I brought my friend S and G brought his friend S (I know S and S, don't get confused here) and they not only "can be friends" they are friends. So basically my house hosted a slew of orgasms this weekend! If there was ever a time to be a fly on the wall anywhere - wowee!

A-Applying for a new job with the boy and we are in the midst of putting together a portfolio and presentation packet of what we have done together in the past and what we plan to do with these positions for their company in the future. We are a package deal and it is gonna be a HUGE HIT - if we land this, it is going to be more fun than I've ever had in corporate America.

Y-Yes. That's the synopsis of what I'm trying to program myself to do. Be more positive, enjoy every moment, live in the moment, abandon the fear. Yes, I will work to abandon the fear. I am "with" (loosely put) a man that makes me superbly happy and I will enjoy every moment and relish our time together. I will not be afraid of him leaving me, I will just love without restraint and enjoy every moment because saying yes makes me happy :)

Saturday, July 29, 2006

Weekend Wallpaper

There's a photo of an angel
set as my wallpaper
for the weekend.

A photo of
perfection incarnate,
living,
breathing
perfection . . .

He is still and quiet.

This photo exudes
beauty,
peace,
harmony.

He is silent,
relaxed,
yet curled tightly,
snuggly,
and cozy.

He is asleep.

His long lashes
fanned gently
against
the top
of his cheeks.

His full red lips
gently closed
in the shape of a heart,
his bottom lip
slightly protruding
beyond the top.

His arm tucked
under his head,
his elbow
facing me
as I gaze
at this
weekend
wonder.

His bare shoulders
and chest
peek out the top
of the crisp
white
hotel sheets.

Such an inviting sight.

I miss this pace . . .
time when we can linger
loiter
lounge
together.

Weekend wonderland
of pillow talk
and sex
and baths
and more sex
and laughter
and love.

I want this pace,
this time,
this luxury . . .

Perhaps
space
will
create
this
pace.

Perhaps,
once the pressure
of the other
forces
in his life
is relieved
then
our bond
won't feel
like pressure.

It will be
just
a bond

It will be fun
invigorating
passionate
adventurous
nurturing
safe
strengthening
growth
and love . . .
perhaps.

Perhaps.

But for today I have fantasies,
hope,
love . . .
and weekend wallpaper.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Parachute

We’re standing on the edge of the Empire State Building with a backpack on – what is inside we have no clue. It may be a parachute, or it may just be a bookbag. How it got strapped securely to your back you have no idea. So there we are, standing on a modern precipice and facing what must be utter disaster below. At this juncture we are asked to jump 127 floors and let go and enjoy the ride down. This is the most ludicrous part of the entire scenario, “enjoy the ride”. Not only is that implausible, but it seems utterly and completely impossible. How do you let go?

Or perhaps a better option is to never fall by just taking the hang-glider that is perched invitingly a few feet away. With the hang glider you can just ride the wind. It is gentle and safe. There is still some risk, although minimal by comparison, as you fly through the air, but it is a soft ride. It is mellow and comfortable. You cannot control the speed, you must be content to float adrift the wind at the pace that life dictates to you.

But falling . . . without falling there is no exhilaration of tumbling into what may be utter bliss as you recklessly abandon your inhibitions and fall into love. You can move as fast as you want, or you can pull the cord and float for a time. You are in control more than you can ever be by floating; you are in control that is, after the initial letting go and falling in.

The thing about falling into love is, you may fear that it will end with a hard thud at the bottom, but it doesn’t. Instead you fall into this molten metallic liquid that is iridescent, smooth, and warm. It envelops you and blocks out all the outside world. It is safe and warm and life-affirming. You, of course, don’t stay in this euphoria forever – but while with your lover, you are free to visit any time.

The choice seems clear. I am a flying leap kind of girl and I don’t want to float through life – I want to fly . . . wanna fly with me?

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Fantasy Tuesday

I am curled up in bed. I have just drifted off and I’m in that hazy place between sleep and awake. Your voice calls my name, “It’s me. Don’t be scared, I’m here, it’s just me . . . ”

You’ve come to crawl into bed with me, to hold me because you needed to see my face and feel my skin under your hands. You left your own warm, cozy bed because you couldn’t stand another moment without my scent, my voice, my heart near yours.

You drove to my house and parked quietly on the street. You crept up the stairs and put your key in the lock. You know, the key I keep conveniently forgetting to ask to get back from you because I’m secretly hoping this fantasy will come true.

You turn the key silently and open the door with the same stealth. Jack perks up, but isn’t too alarmed as you do have a key. You whisper his name and tell him it’s just you and he sighs and lays his weary head back down on his paws. He cocks his eyebrow at you and you reward him with a quick pat on the head.

You then take off your shoes without using your hands and tiptoe downstairs to my bedroom. You turn the hall light on so as not to alarm me as some strange man calling my name in complete darkness. When you open my door it casts just enough light across the room that I will identify you at once when I open my eyes.

You come to the side of my bed and crouch down and say my name in a whispered hush. You repeat it a couple of times and then say “it’s me, don’t be scared, I’m here, it’s just me” and begin to climb into bed next to me. I shake my head a bit and begin to sweep the haziness from my thoughts, “where’d you come from?” I ask with a smile and reach my arm around you to pull you close into the warm cocoon of my down-filled bed.

You don’t say another word, but cover my mouth with yours. Soft and tenderly you kiss me and touch my face with your fingers. Soon, your kiss becomes more. I am kissing you desperately and hard. You are kissing me even harder. I begin to shudder and realize it is because your hand has found its way down to my breast and is kneading it gently. My hands too find their way south and are feeling you, soaking you in. Your mouth leaves mine and travels to my throat, my neck, my chest. I am pulling at your t-shirt and tug it up over your head as you do the same to mine. We both grab for our own pants to remove all the unnecessary excess that is in our way.

You pull me close and the first thing you want from me is just to feel my skin on yours. I am desperately holding you tight, wanting you to be nearer and nearer. We are kissing again and your tongue pushes deep into my mouth. There is more of you I want deep inside of me. I push to be over you so I can part my legs and you can enter . . .