Whether I know you, don’t know, sort of know you, barely have made your acquaintance, or we’ve become lifelong friends…

I sincerely hope your 2007 starts off good and only gets better. As we say goodbye to 2006 and all the ups, downs, and sometimes sidewinder sort of movements our lives have made, I can truly say I’m grateful for my journey, even if I’m not quite sure where I’m headed at all times.

I’m glad we’re all still here. Wherever here is for you.

Cheers!

I am selling off a large portion of my cd collection gained over the last 15 – 20 years. I don’t like doing it. This is only one step down from parting with beloved books. Not a pleasant sensation, parting with old friends like this.

However… I have no income, and I must cut corners where I can. Many of these cds, while I still know most of the songs by heart and can sing along… I haven’t truly listened to in a long while.

So… perhaps someone else will enjoy them.

I’ve stuck them all up on Amazon… and already… 3 have sold. That’s encouraging.

Soon, I will also be ebaying several vintage Fischer Price toys from my childhood… that my own child played with as a toddler. Remember Little People when they were little wooden spools with little round wooden heads? And then… they switched the heads to plastic… then finally the bodies? yeah… I have a bunch of those, and a castle with a dragon… and other various memories.

After I get that on the auction block, I’ll be going through all my bellydance stuff and purging anything I haven’t used in the last year. It’s time. I have a lot of pretty things that are… well… pretty. And obviously not useful to me. But maybe they’re useful to other people.

Anyway… if you’re reading this, and you know anyone that’s in the market for used cds that range from Loreena McKennitt, to Yes, to Rush, to Yo-Yo Ma, to various Christmas compilations (not to mention Mannheim Steamroller)… point them my direction.

And watch this space for bellydance goodies. Eventually. I’m kind of a procrastinator… so, you know… maybe sometime around February?

hehehe

Take this survey… I guess the best way is to respond in comments with your answers.
THIS IS A SURVEY WITH A TWIST – YOU fill in the blanks about ME. Be honest. And if you’re brave, copy and paste this in YOUR blog so people can answer these questions about YOU.

1. My name?

2. Where did we meet?

3. Take a stab at my middle name:

4. How long have you known me?

5. When is the last time we saw each other?

6. Do I smoke/drink?

7. Am I book or street smart?

8. When you first saw me what was your impression?

9. Month of my Birthday?

10. Color hair?

11. Color eyes?

12. Do I have any siblings?

13. What’s one of my favorite things to do outdoors?

14. What’s one of my favorite things to do indoors?

15. Do you remember the last thing I said to you?

16. What’s my favorite type of music?

17. What is the best feature about me?

18. Am I shy or outgoing?

19. Would you say I am funny ha ha or funny sarcastic?

20. Am I a rebel or do I follow all the rules?

21. Would you call me hippie, glam, nerdy, snobby, or something else?

22. Have you ever seen me cry?

23. If there were one good nickname for me, what would it be?

24. If I had broccoli stuck in my teeth, would you tell me?

So, when am I not?

Not sure why though. Christmas was good. Time spent with my family, niece and nephews, the podling. Chatting an hour and a half (unplanned) with bro in Montana… only to hear him, mid-conversation, suddenly channel my father by shouting “YOU get your butt back upstairs and in BED!” I nearly choked, laughing. It’s so funny hearing our own parents come out of our mouths. Especially from the one person in the family I would have sworn would NOT become like them. Apparently his youngest is somewhat like her daddy, in that she obeys the rules only so far as they serve her purpose. Beyond that… it’s all interpretation, baby. I’d love to see them, spend some time with them.

He’d love to see me move up near him. Actually, I think perhaps he’d love to see ANYbody he knew move up near him. But he does truly like it there. I think I might, too. Thing is, if I were going to move somewhere, I already have a place in mind. For the now. It’s just… things are complicated when sharing custody of the finest child ever born. Still… I’ll eventually have to go where the work is… where I can get a job that will keep me in food.

I do so like to eat.

Right. So Christmas was good, lot’s of family interaction with minimum tension. Pretty damned amazing.

I’m rested, finally, with only the remnants of something of a respiratory, sniffly, achey thing I suspect I contracted while on my weeklong excursion.

So why am I cranky? Maybe I’ll work that out as I keep typing here.

The Mormons have found me again. I’m not terribly surprised. After all, I converted at 11, and they’ve had a handle on me since, even though I was never what one would call a ‘conventional’ Mormon.

Maybe I joined the system just so I could buck the system. A girl’s gotta have something to rebel against.

In any case, I had thought they might lose track of me when I moved out of the house and got my own apartment. After all, things like divorce shock and confuse your average pious Latter Day Saint.

No. A gentle older couple appeared at my door today… I in my jammies, the podling in her fuzzy robe… and proceeded to ‘welcome’ me to the ward. They were nice. So was I… aside from NOT inviting them in when the tacit hint of “boy, it sure is cold and wet out today” was fielded.

I wasn’t in the mood today. Normally, I can put up with the monthly visits from well-meaning church members who are told, and truly feel, that it is their duty to bring a ‘message’ to specified members… to fellowship and friendship them into coming to church. I can spend an hour or so a month on that. After all, it helps me remember a few things about myself, as well as about the church.

And I figure it’s good for them to spend some time with someone who, while appreciating the finer point of the gospel, has NOT swallowed the whole thing, hook, line and sinker… simply because somebody said that’s the way it is. It’s a scary thing when, spending a delightfully frozen evening trotting briskly around temple square in SLC to look at the pretty lights… a little girl sees the statue of Jesus and exlaims “JOSEPH!”… “Uh, no honey, that’s Jesus…”

As my escort said… that’s when the indoctrination and brainwashing begins. Already this child placed as much meaning upon the existence of Joseph Smith as she did on the existence of Jesus.

So… yeah, I don’t quite get THOSE people… the ones that insist that the sabbath should be kept holy, and commerce should not be done on Sunday, yet after church they all go out to brunch at the nearest diner/coffee shop.

It’s not the hypocrisy that bugs me. It’s that these fresh-faced, wide-eyed, cheerful folk truly SEE no hypocrisy in their behavior. It’s that they raise their children to be SO innocent that their naivete makes them stupid, and prone to bad decisions and the influence of bad people the instant they are outside the influence of their sheltered little world. Sometimes… even within their safe cocoon. I have no wish to be judgemental, but the Elizabeth Smart abduction may well be a case of a girl coerced into leaving her family home because she was unprepared for the influence of someone with such evil intentions. As well… it may have been easier than it should have been for that guy to have access to her.

I’m not saying it was the family’s fault, really. They believe so deeply and strongly in their faith. It probably never occurred to them that such a thing could possibly happen to such good people.

Yeah. We sinners are a lot more cynical about the good intentions of the guy that comes to weed the garden. He may well be a nice person. But he might not.

I’m rambling.

No, it wasn’t the sweet older couple that appeared at my door unnanounced (which, even if you AREN’T Mormon… is a VERY bad idea with me. I despise the unannounced visitor.)

I was grumpy before they showed up, which is why I did NOT invite them in from the cold and offer them a nice cup of tea. (A joke. That would have made their eyes bulge even more than when I explained that I moved into an apartment because I am separated from my daughter’s father and in the process of getting a divorce. The only thing that would have been worse than offering them a cup of tea – or coffee – would have been to crack open a beer and say “Ya want one?”)

I have things to look forward to. Podling wants to see The Magic Flute as it’s broadcast from New York at the Edwards Theatre this Saturday. She’s more excited at the prospect than I am… so by all means I intend to make it happen. Then she gets to have one of her friends over for a sleepover that night. That should be fun, too. I’ll get pizza, and soda, and let them stay up past midnight… Try and find a movie or three that 11 year olds are into… Girl time.

School starts again on the 3rd. For 6 days. Then quarter break for a week and a half. Not really looking forward to that, because there is at least one class in which I am dreadfully behind. Oh well. That’s still not the cause of my grumpies.

It probably has something more to do with the fact that there is a place I’d rather be than here… and I am prevented from it by my own split loyalties.

Story of my life… there’s doing the right thing… and doing the right thing for ME… and the twain so rarely meet, it seems.

Yes. Boo-hoo.

It’s just life.

Maybe I’m just cranky because I’ve been eating crap daily, for at least 2 weeks.

Perhaps I should visit the market and pick up some green things… that aren’t green because they’ve been in my fridge for a few months…

I have the girl through the New Year… and this year… no gig lined up for New Year’s Eve. I’m glad, because I’m not in the mood for it. I’m not so glad because I could surely use the money I could make from it.

So podling and I will sit up, watch whatever giddy nonsense about the New Year is on network TV, toast it in with some sparkling cider, and then fall asleep. I’d like to do something slightly more interesting with her, but haven’t come up with any ideas. Too cold out for midnight stargazing.

At least we’ll be together, and I can look into that dear, smiling face and see the sparkle in her eye.

I can only love people who have that sparkle in their eye when they look at me. I’m sure that’s some sort of horrible narcissistic behavior… but it’s true.

I’ve typed a lot, and still haven’t banished the cranky. And none of it even means anything, other than reminding myself of where I am and how I feel.

Haven’t decided if that’s a good or a bad thing.

You Are a Trifle
No doubt, you have many intricate layers. But deep down, you’re a little squishy.

erm?

“When you drive, it feels like we’re flying.”

I mean… I know I drive fast, but…

Did anyone know I was gone?

heh.

Well, anyway, I am.

And I probably could have posted during my time away from the world I regularly know… but I din’t wanna.

Busy. Preoccupied.

I suppose I could go on and on about where I was and what I did… but… I don’t wanna do that, either.

It feels as though I’d be breaking a spell, jeopardizing the glow. This is one spell I don’t want to break. Nor do I want it to dissipate.

I want to hold it close a bit longer. Indefinitely, really. There’s not a lot of this in my day to day existence, so I’m pretty damned greedy and protective of what I do get. It’s nice to feel fulfilled.

I’m glad to be home: I’ve missed my girl. I need to do laundry. Else… I might NOT have come home.

But I did. And life goes on. I just have to find which direction it will be going. Every day is a new battle plan for that front.

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I’m exactly where I thought I would be at this point. Unsettling, that.

Driving home tonight was oddly poetic… on the longest night of the year, through the dark streets of Fresno, windshield wipers slapping furiously (yet ineffectively). Huge wings of water flying up from both sides of the car when I hit curiously deep puddles on streets that I didn’t think would be that flooded. (Going at a speed that was likely unsafe for the conditions. I haven’t driven for a week that seems like light years away from here. And just how long has it been raining in this burg?) Windows steamed up. Familiar landmarks feel like distant memories because they aren’t mine anymore. And the only place I feel even close to belonging is here in my apartment, but only because this is where all my shit is…

Christmas is pounding on the door, and I’m not quite ready to let it in yet. There are still a few things to pick up for the folks. But at least I have my lovely silver tinsel tree and the COLOR WHEEL, BABY! YEAH!

No stupid twinkling lights for ME, man. I’m retro all the way. AND… I forgot to acquire a tree skirt, so a lovely liquid silver veil is filling in nicely.

Don’t tell Ely that’s how I’m treating my silver 3/4 circle veil.

Dad called again tonight. “You need to bring that program so you can tell me what’s wrong with my computer…”

I can tell him that easily. It’s a dinosaur. He could spend a couple hundred bucks and get a cute little e-machine from Costco that would blow his mind. But he won’t. I know. First, we’re going to try to figure out what in Windows 95 or Windows 98 (whichever he’s running. not sure, I’ll see when I get there this weekend) is wrong. I’m thinking it’s Norton. We’ll see.

A few important thoughts:

-I am thankful that my GQS is doing well. More than thankful. I thought of her daily for weeks, and good news is… well.. just damned good news. I’m still sending nergies, and will until I know for sure the whole deal is done… 6 months… however long.

-I’m going to make up my mind. About a lot of things. I mean… I already have, in so many ways, over the past year or so… but there are still things for which I really need to take responsibility… and stop waffling. I will.

-I’m going to continue my life purge. I’m still holding on to stuff I really don’t need. Material and emotional. Dear me, but I have a shitload of baggage.

The podling was doing her homework. I was relaxing quietly.(Read that… I was dozing off before I needed to get up and go to dance class.)

There is a jaunty “shave and a haircut” knock at my door.

I open it to find a young man who looks to be 18, 19 years old at the most, standing and facing me. Immediately he starts that rapid-fire, good-natured, hey-I’m-your-buddy and non-threatening chit chat that tells me, “Oh great. I’m about to get sold some magazines.”

Sure enough, he pulls out his little card that shows the points her can earn, and when he does he gets a trip to X and X amount of money and so on…

He’s smooth, though. Amusing enough that I’m letting him actually go through it rather than slamming the door without a word. (I have done this in the past. Learned it from my daughter’s father. It’s really very effective.)

He’s talking about all the places he’s been, doing this job… all the pretty women in California. (Supposedly he’s from Hawaii…)

Then the compliments start. He notices I have a child… that isn’t all THAT young… and yet guesses my age at 20, 21…

Yeah, buddy. Points deducted for inability to do simple math calculations…

Then he corrects to say… No… he’d guess I was about 26… his age.

Uh huh. I’m not buying what he’s selling. Nor am I buying his line of babble.

But he’s amusing.

About here… the podling appears behind me, lifts her arm… and shoots a stream of vanilla scented body spray at him. I don’t think she was deliberately aiming, but it ended up going directly into his face.

My child… just maced a dude at my door… with Secret glitter body spray in vanilla flavor.

Ok, she disappears, giggling. I am horrified. Slick is doubled over with his hands over his face, coughing and talking about how it stings…

Lovely. NOW I am obligated to interact with this annoyance even longer. I must give him a washcloth to try to get some of that crap off his face, out of his eyes…

I even feel sorry for him. After all, it’s tough to go door to door trying to sell people things they don’t want. There are doors slammed (I know about these), there are questionable pets to greet you, there are surly faces, grumpy people… and now an 11 year old sprays you in the face with sickly sweet chemicals!

But he recovered… thank God. And continued to try to get me to buy his ridiculous, uninteresting periodicals. I declined.

He then proceeded to ask if I would let him take me to dinner.

WTF???

I declined.

Got to hand it to him, though… even as he left, he wrote his name and number down and handed it to me…

This kid, who surely has far better things to do, is hitting on a woman who could probably be his mother. (I still don’t buy the “I’m 26″ bit.)

He left. I bought nothing. At least he was pleasant, even after getting attacked by a podling.

Sometimes life is too surreal to believe.

And yes… the girl and I had a nice long discussion of what is appropriate, what is not, and that we do not spray things at people just because we think it might be funny.

I still don’t know what was going through her mind.

METAL BY NUMBERS
Music by Scott Ian
Lyrics by Brian Posehn

VERSE 1:
They’ve killed METAL twice, but it will never really die!
It’s kind of like a zombie or even that Jesus guy…

So grab your friends, some instruments and start a metal band
Just sing about death, Egypt and wizards or rip off Ayn Rand

We’re coming to the end of the first verse…
Then comes the breakdown, a pretty chorus and then the second verse.

I know I just rhymed verse with verse
That’s because I’m sooo METAL, bitch, where’s your fucking purse?

PRE-CHORUS(BREAKDOWN):

BREAKDOWN!!! In this part it sounds like the singer wants to fight…
BREAKDOWN!!! Don’t be scared, the chorus will make it all alright

CHORUS:

Metal by numbers, 1, 2, 3
Follow these rules and you will see
Cookie monster vocals or yell like a wookie
Metal by numbers, COOKIE, COOKIE, COOKIE
Metal by numbers, 1, 2, 3
THIS IS THE GAY PART, with melody
Even a baby could do it, just give it a try
Just sound like Maiden or Metallica or Every Time I Die

SECOND VERSE:

I have to change my voice to make me sound (gang) MAD!
If I tried to sing clean it would make your ears (gang) SAD!

This is the (gang) GANG VOCAL and I’ll tell you the (gang) TRUTH!
It’s four sweaty dudes yelling in a (gang) BOOTH!

Music really sucks now Posers and trendy(gang) FOOLS
But compared to Coldplay and Nelly, (gang)EVEN SHITTY METAL RULES!
It’s metal by numbers, it’s not arithmetic
John Mayer, Kelly Clarkson…they all can suck my PENIS!

PRE-CHORUS(BREAKDOWN):

BREAKDOWN!!! In this part it sounds like the singer wants to fight…
BREAKDOWN!!! Don’t be scared, the chorus will make it all alright

CHORUS:

Metal by numbers, 1, 2, 3
Follow these rules and you will see
Cookie monster vocals or yell like a wookie
Metal by numbers, COOKIE, COOKIE, COOKIE
Metal by numbers, 1, 2, 3
THIS IS THE GAY PART, with melody
Even a monkey could do it, just give it a try
Copy Maiden or Metallica or Every Time I Die

MOSH PART:
(BUILD UP)
Here it comes! C’mon! All Right!
ARE YOU ALMOST READY??
Shit! I missed it!

(SPOKEN) This is the mosh part! MOSH!!!
Or don’t. It’s your call. I just stand in the back and try not to get hit. Watch out for the shirtless white trash guys. They’ll punch you and they stink. And look out for the screamo kids practicing their karate kicks. Dude, you look gaytarded. Oh no. Here comes a giant Mexican – he looks really pissed. I wish everybody would put their shirts back on, it’s kind of gross. Is this part still going? Here comes the lead break…Oh, not yet. Here it comes… here it comes. GO!

SOLO(JON DONAIS)

CHORUS:

Metal by numbers, 1, 2, 3
Follow these rules and you will see
Cookie monster vocals or yell like a wookie
Metal by numbers, COOKIE, COOKIE, COOKIE!
Metal by numbers, 1, 2, 3
THIS IS THE GAY PART, with melody
Even a retard could do it, JUST GIVE IT A TRY!
Steal from Maiden or Metallica or Every Time I Die

Found it here