I'll be back


I'm off to Spain today and won't be back until next Friday. It's a life long dream to go off to Espana, and here I am. My flight leaves in a couple of hours.

So big kisses and I can't wait to be back. I'll share all my times and pictures if possible. Pray that I don't get deported. The Playa MC has his doubts.

Hugs and see you soon!

"Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." Yes, thank you Mr. Einstein, I realize I’m insane.

When I was in high school my parents insisted I see a therapist. While the reasoning behind their decisions was questionable, their demand was a blessing in some ways. Every teenage girl wants to hear that all of her problems are a direct result of inadequate parenting. I suspected as much, but this gave me the proof I needed to truly see them as people incapable of loving their own children.

And so I went every Thursday, just as happy as could be. My mother was invited in for a couple of sessions, but quickly pulled me out when the therapist suggested some of my hostile behavior was a reaction to her drinking problem. But before that day when the therapist tried a little too hard with my mom, she asked me a simple question. “If you know that every time you go down that road you are going to fall into a pothole, why don’t you take the other road or a bridge or something else?”

I responded that it’s a familiar road and that I know the potholes well. Sometimes I like hiding in them away from the rest of the world. At the time I liked self-destruction and I kept it up for several years. It was safe and it made sense. If my parent’s weren’t going to beat me down, I would learn to do it myself. Living in chaos was all I knew. It was my street.

I gave all that up several years ago. I don’t invite drama and lunacy into my life. I don’t get in fights and I try to be kind to people. I like my life, I love my friends, and I’m good to myself. I don’t tell myself how ugly I am or how unlovable I am. I’ve lost the reasoning behind why I use to convince myself that I would fail at everything.

Last night I did something really stupid. I went down that road knowing what the outcome would be. I did it because I wanted to be nice and I was hopeful that something had changed. I did it because wanted to see if love would change something that I couldn’t. It didn’t. I couldn’t. I knew that before I stepped foot in that direction. I ended up putting myself in a bad situation and getting hurt again. Except this time, I did walk away. This time I didn’t feel bad leaving those voices that tell me how horrible I am. I didn’t allow the chaos to pull me under and leave me lost.

I know what love is and it’s not someone telling you how horrible you are or accusing you of being someone you’re not. It’s not someone looking over and glaring at you. As much as it hurt to get up and walk away, I had to for me. I had walk down that new street alone. I refuse to go back to insanity where cruelness is called love.

Why I hate Helen Keller and you should to


You know the scene. That damn scene at the water spicket. You know the one. Helen’s teacher is screaming “WATER!!!” at her and Helen is splashing all around and is finally able to grasp saying the word water. I bet it gets to you. You know it does. You know that teacher wanted to drowned her for being such a terror, but you know we’re all suppose to forgive her because until then she just couldn’t communicate.

I just want to tell that teacher that she should have left well enough alone. The damn brat should never have found a voice, because now I have to listen to her perky little sayings all the time. Funny that none of her lines start with, “I use to be a real bitch until that lady jammed a bunch of water in my grill”.

I think my final straw with Helen came last week when someone handed me one of her quotes. “When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.” Ya Helen, why don’t you tell me about staring at doors? Oh, that’s right. You can’t. And who made you Yoda?

You can’t see or hear and all of a sudden you turn out to be the damn poster girl for all the blind and mute people of the world. Pretty arrogant aren’t you? Miss High and Mighty have you ever thought that your quotes are just a bit much? How about this one, “Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming of it”. Obviously one can’t overcome awkward sentence structure, can they Miss I’m So Great?

What about all the other people in the same deaf and blind boat? Do you really think they want to hear you spuing how insightful you are? “Look at me, look at me!! I’m Helen and I’m mute, but I’m so much smarter than everyone else”. Puke.

I also have to disagree with this saying you came up with: “Many persons have a wrong idea of what constitutes true happiness. It is not attained through self gratification but through fidelity to a worthy purpose”. Obviously Miss Keller didn’t get to know her own self very well, now did she? Self-gratification is one of the healthiest and best ways to spend a Sunday morning. Fidelity to a worthy purpose? Isn’t that the underlying point of self-gratification? I thought with your ego, Helen, you’d think of your self in higher regards.

And before someone reads this and sends me some crap about how mean I am let me just say, “Yes, thank you”. I know I am. And no I don’t hate all deaf people, nor do I think they are dumb. Just stupid little Helen. Why oh why didn’t that lady push her down the water well? Now I’m stuck with these dumb little sayings. So to you Helen, I dare say, “Now that you have a voice, please shut the fuck up.”

Why did ya have to go and say a thing like that?

It hasn’t rained in Austin for over 5 weeks now. Dry isn’t even the half of it. I think I’ve heard the earth coughing around here, looking for anything to quench its thirst.

I was walking back to my work pod yesterday afternoon and noticed a peculiar smell. I stopped dead on my heels and sniffed again. “It’s rain!” I belted out and ran to the window. I felt like an old woman in a nursing home whose days fluctuate with the weather. Sure enough it was rain. Texas rain is different that anywhere else I’ve been. Seattle has their little pellets of rain and Arizona’s rain looks like mist. The rain here is made up of huge lemon sized drops that can soak you immediately, like a Shamoo splash.

I went home to try and catch a run in the rain. It’s been so steamy that I can’t run at night, so I was jumping with joy at the chance of running in a heavenly shower. Sure enough I got home and there was no rain to be found.

I started making dinner and the Playa MC came by for a movie. I had the door cracked open when the downpour began. The street began to flood and the lighting cracked through the sky. Glorious rain. The lights went out a few times and then it stopped out of nowhere, like a tantruming child’s whose attention’s been caught by a butterfly.

We drank our wine and waited for my cat to come home. I kept getting up and looking out the door in hopes the lighting hadn’t chased him four counties away. During one of my attempts to coax him in my neighbor pulled up. I smiled because something about him always makes me smile. He got out of his car, smiled back and said, “You want to go for a walk in the rain?”

I could have melted on the spot and run fluidly into the stream rushing down the street. I declined, but damn if you ever want to get laid on the spot – try that line. If the Playa MC hadn’t been there, I’m happy to say I would have fucked that boy right there in the street. Damn him, now I’ll have to fantasize about that for a week.