Primetime special on Swinging

I watched the special Primetime had on ABC about swinging. John Stossel is a good reporter, but his methods of asking the questions, condescending and judgemental, annoyed me. Yes, he asked the normal questions about swinging in a manner any outsider would ask them. Yet, there was so much that was left unsaid. They didn't mention that this lifestyle is normally more about having a group of friends in the lifestyle that you happen to play with, than it is being on the prowl for new strangers to fuck. I happen to LOATHE first time encounters with new people. Daniel and I see it as having a committed circle of friends-with-benefits. These same friends did as much to help us set up for our wedding as family did. And that's how we see them: as family.

As for the couples' therapists that saw swinging as damaging to a marriage, I have this to say: I consider trust to be the biggest part of my marriage. I have had previous relationships ruined by cheating. I would rather be open with the fact that we are both human and attracted to other people, than feeling the need to lie to ourselves and cheat.
One person cannot be all things to their spouse. Its a matter of respect that we give each other the freedom to grow.

The one thing I am glad Primetime showed is that all Swingers are NOT model types. Swingers come from all walks of life, in all shapes, sizes, and socio-economic levels. The couples they interviewed were respectable, fully contributing members of society. Not every body type appeals to all people, and The Lifestyle has all kinds.

I believe that Swingers have a more progressive life view than others. We realize that monogamy does not work to keep marriages solvent most times. The fact that more couples, otherwise known as "normal" to the outside world, are realizing this and opening up their relationships is a positive thing. Primetime was a good first step, but the media needs more positive programming to show this.

Answer to a common question

We have a friend we know locally that Daniel has been wanting to play with. I'll call her M. M posted an email to our MySpace account asking us about Swinging, and how we handled jealousy. Daniel, the prolific writer, wrote a huge email to her, and I enclosed my own 2 cents. Here they are:

"Hi Melissa,
Daniel told me about your question about jealousy. Yes,
sometimes I do get a little jealous. However, I consider
jealousy my problem, not his. If I get jealous of someone,
that's my insecurity coming through. When I feel a little
jealous, its normally caused by me not feeling good about
myself, and comparing myself to the other woman. It has
nothing to do with him. I respect him, love him with all of my
heart, and know that my trust in him and our marriage will
never be betrayed.
Mostly, I really enjoy seeing him have sex with other women. I
know how good in bed he is, and it gives me a sense of
fiendish delight in thinking, "Yes, this man is the hottest thing
in this room, and he's coming home with me!" I have a sense
of pride in being his wife, and it turns me on thinking I get the
lion's share of his skills, LOL. I hope this helps, and if you
have anymore questions, just let Daniel or I know.
Z"

heartsick

When I grew apart from Mr. Cool (the older man I dated who turned me to Escorting), I thought he would be an adult about it. Ever since January, he has went insane with accusations about me stealing off him. To answer some accusations:

1) I had permission, when we were dating, to put my Vonage bill and about 150$ of clothes on his Visa account, with his permission. Now that its all over, he calls it stealing. He is so strung out on drugs he doesn't remember giving permission for me to use it. Go figure. When I was sharing profits with him from the whoring, I gave him over $1000 dollars. Kind of makes the difference up for a 50$ Vonage bill and $150 worth of clothes.

2) He accused me of putting extra cabins on his credit card for parties. The only time we put a cabin on his credit card was in Aug. 2005 WITH HIS PERMISSION! The rest of the parties we held for him was paid for by the cover charge.

3) He accused me of taking the portable bar profits from him. We couldn't get access to the bar he paid for, so we bought our own, since it was easier to have the bar where the parties were. The profits went right back into the bar.

4) He accused me of taking membership fees, and not turning them in to him. We never collected any membership fees to give him. It was late in the year, and we were too busy trying to keep the club afloat in his absence.

So hes been bitching about this on his yahoo club site for months now. I haven't posted on his site since I left his group in late January. Today, we tried to broker a deal with "Buffy" his representative by agreeing to send him a membership invite to our club in the understanding he would lay off the accusations. He promptly turns around and posts this crap to Rockers, a regional swing group we are affiliated with. He was reprimanded for posting personal crap on the site, but the damage was done.

I do not know what its going to take to totally sever ties with him. He threatens to tell me stuff about Daniel he supposedly has, then tries to say "oh its not about money, I just want to be friends again-lets forget it all." When we agree to be friends again, he shoots off another post online belittling us. WTF?

I am ready to give our group over to other members, and leave the lifestyle, where all our other friends are, to have it over with him. Daniel says that allows him to win, but I don't know what else to do...

POETRY ALERT..Kubla Khan

Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Kubla Khan OR, A VISION IN A DREAM.A FRAGMENT.


In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree :
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round :
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
A savage place ! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced :
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail :
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war !

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves ;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Renting from the backwoods mafia

The main reason for my bad temper lately is that my beloved husband is having to live with his boss closer to work, then comes home to me on the weekends. He was having to drive 2 hours each way besides working a 12 hour shift. Now hes 15 minutes away, and only makes the long trip twice a week. I miss him terribly, and am pretty isolated. The answer is to move closer to his work, right?

Easier said than done. Now, in most reasonably populated and civilized areas, if there was a house to rent it is either in the local paper, or there are For Rent signs. Not in Logan County WV. You have to actually know someone to get info on renting a property. I have called 3 dozen (no exaggeration) people, then get numbers of 3 dozen other people, to be told they don't have anything to rent. The few that are actually posted in the Logan Banner (http://www.loganbanner.com/) are usually trailers or small apartments. I refuse to live in trailers, since they are: 1) death traps, and 2) crappy to live in. So, since we are trying to have a child, a house is the way we want to go, but we might have to see about another apartment, and they are just as hard to find there.

The other option is moving to Beckley, WV, a decently populated city. The road from Beckley to Toneys Fork, where Daniel works, is not a safe one during the winter, so this has been shot down. I am going nuts trying to find something!!

I hate...a rant to make me feel better

I hate it that Daniel is working so far away. I hate not seeing him that much. I hate disappointing him. I hate disappointing myself. I hate being alone in this house all day. I hate not being able to go anywhere. I hate not being able to work. I hate being exhausted, and being sick. I hate being such a fuck up. I hate it that no one will teach me to drive. I hate it that I cant bring myself to paint. I hate it that I'm ugly. I hate the fact I haven't been to Key West in 4 years. I hate that I have no close friends that can come to the house. I hate that I just cant walk out the door anymore and do things. I hate being stupid. I hate I hate I hate......

The Duh Factor, an ongoing series: Report: Paramount Terminates Tom Cruise's Contract

" Aug. 22, 2006 — Paramount Pictures is terminating its 14-year relationship with Tom Cruise — one of the most successful actors in Hollywood history — because of the actor's off-screen behavior, according to a report published late Tuesday in the Wall Street Journal. "

Ok, was anyone surprised by this? Normally I tread lightly about dissing another person's religion, since I practice a misunderstood faith myself. However, I can't let this slip past. Has Tom Cruise gotten so hypnotised by Scientology that he has no concept about how the outside world works? When your religion has you so far outside the mainstream that you start to bite the hand that feeds you, i.e. the movie-going public that buy the tickets for your movies, you either need to wake up, or accept the consequences. In the real world, if any regular person acted as bizzarre as Tom Cruise has, their job would be on the line too. Except, if we get fired we don't lose millions.

As I said before, I am an elder in Witchcraft, so I have no right to criticise Scientology per se. I am , however, a firm believer in personal responsibility. Welcome to the real world, Tom.

HAHAHAHAH IM A RUNNER AGAIN!!!

After a week of building up, I can now state categorically I'm a runner again! Oh, how I have missed it, the nice endorphin rush. I am a almost ashamed of the smugness I now feel when I walk into Wal-Mart and see women bigger than I am, although I am by no means a small woman. Its just the satisfaction of knowing I'm TRYING, that I'm doing something about my weight and health. Daniel supports me 110%, and thinks I'm transforming in front of him. We want to have a baby, and I am worried about my fertility, so the weight loss will help.
Currently I have made it to: 5 minute warm up, then 1 minute of running-2 minutes of walking-repeat pattern 7 times, then 5 minute cool down. It reads like this on my sheet: 5mwarm-1m R &2 m Wx7, 5m cool. It has taken me 3 days to work up to this, the first day I was only able to do 5 repeats. After 4 days of that pattern, I go to 1m R-1mWx7, till eventually I am running 20 minutes straight. This will probably take me till late October to do. I am hoping to find a 5k to run in maybe by February. I'm overestimating everything cause I know how the fibromyalgia gets in the cold weather. So, wish me luck!

Art envy

My painting rut has lasted 8 months now. I have a basement to paint in, I have the supplies, just don't have the desire. And I see all these sites with all these painters doing good work, and I feel sick inside. I'm so afraid that I will truly find out I suck as a painter that I'm afraid to try. I love taking painting classes and make B's in them, but I feel like some big wannabe baby. Yes, I'm bitching. Yes, I'm a crybaby. Yes I should get off my lazy ass and do something. The fear is palpable. it goes to show you I am certifiable.

The few, the brave, and my message to them

I have this nifty counter linked to my blog called Tracksy. Tracksy has a cool extra that lets you see where some of the people who read you come from, and how many times they have visited your blog. Nothing else, though, to identify them. It lets me know that I have a fan in Dubai who has read my blog 5 times, and one in Atlanta who has read me some 27 times. I don't use tracksy to be nosy, it just fascinates me how small the internet has made the world. You know, you all don't have to be anonymous... Please leave comments, send me emails, anything!!! I think my writing lately has been boring and trite and I'm amazed anyone reads me anymore, LOL. I promise, once again to do better. And please, check out some of the bloggers I have links for, they are truly a humbling bunch.

help for Granny

Finn, the son of Liz, the author of Granny Gets a Vibrator, has created a paypal account on his site for his mom to help for medical bills. Here is the link: http://finwake.blogspot.com/2006/08/paypal-link.html. The name of the account is "The "New Shoes" for Liz Fund". As someone who, at the time of my husbands death, looked at a 3 MILLION DOLLAR medical bill, I know the challenge she faces. Every little bit helps.

Encouragement

The writer of one of my favorite blogs, Granny Gets A Vibrator, has just been diagnosed with cancer, either Lymphoma or Lung, they aren't sure yet. The first few posts have reminded me about my life with John, and his diagnoses. I posted a huge not on her comments page, and yet I am a stranger. She is tired and overwhelmed, has no insurance (as most people don't in this country), and is getting her first taste of the inhumanities of the medical profession. She needs the moral support of all readers and fellow bloggers, so either click the link on this entry, or in my links list, and check out this wonderful woman and support her in her struggle!!!

What I look like

Just in case anyone wanted to see what I look like:
This is Daniel and I after we cut the cake.
The second pic is my father and I walking down the isle.

Moving....Again....

We have come to find out that Daniel will have a new job (same company) in a new area in a few weeks. Currently, he drives an hour and a half one way to get to work. The new job will add a extra half hour each way. So, in the best interest of keeping my husband sane, and our finances in the black, we have decided to move to West Virginia. We had a heads up about this a few weeks ago, but on the hearing the final decision, I had a full blown anxiety attack so bad that Daniel had to leave work to come home to settle me down (this will not become a regular occurrence!).

It's not that I hate West Virginia-on the contrary. There is plenty I love about WV. I went to college for 2 years at Marshal University in Huntington. Most of my college friends were from Charleston or northern WV, which is gorgeous. Most of West Virginia is highly underrated. My fear was about where we were moving: south central WV, more precisely the Logan area. Logan is a city of about 8500, and any city bigger is about an hours drive away. Its not the state per se, its the rural versus semi urban that is part of this region.

I love city life. The ability to walk to movies, concerts, museums, and such delights me. I love living in the middle of things. I lived right in the middle of several urban areas (Lexington, Portland, Savannah), and smaller tourist towns with lots packed into a small space (Jackson Hole, and Key West). It was heavenly. There is nothing worse than the feeling of being stranded in an area where you cant walk to anything. The Pikeville of my childhood wasn't this way, it has grown to be.

I felt these same feelings when I moved from Lexington to Pikeville. I happen to like Pikeville now. We have a mutually satisfying relationship. I want to make life easier on Daniel, he does so much and asks for so little in return. My anxiety attack was me worrying that I would go insane in such a small town. However, I have since calmed down into a more practical frame of mind. We will be close enough to Charleston and Huntington to see civilization on weekends. Daniel hates the rural as much as I do, so we will be able to escape as much as necessary.

I just hate the moving process. My dad was a wanderer, so was my first husband. I have lived in or traveled through 40 states. At one point I changed schools 3 times in one year. With my first husband, we got used to having all our worldly possessions pared down to 8 suitcases. I love to travel, I loathe to move residences. In my old age, I have become very resistant to change of residences. This is bad. Change is the norm, normalcy the exception. With help, I should make it through this change, and deal with my Cancer psyche wanting to cling to the same shell.

Thoughts on being 35

Last week, on July 9, I turned 35. We had a small swinger meet and greet and karaoke. I played, and enjoyed it. I kept thinking that I should be feeling one of two things: 1)euphoria that I made it to 35; or, 2) miserable as hell that I'm getting older. I felt neither. In fact, I felt rather blase about the whole thing.

I think I'm holding together pretty good, considering. I'm walking up to 35 minutes a day. Went to the doctor today and found out I lost 10lbs in 5 weeks...not bad. I have a gorgeous husband who adores me as I adore him. I wish I was doing more creative endeavors, but otherwise, I have no complaints nor regrets.

I actually like my age. All my older women friends still have it going on well past their mid-fifties. There's actually a sense of relief in some strange way. It seemed like from 18-34, I was working very hard to please my male partners, my family, or society in general. Now I have this nifty feeling of only having to please myself. I've come to the realization that there are some things I wanted to do that I can't now (like be in the military), and I'm OK with it. I feel comfy in my own skin, finally.

I feel pretty

The past year, since I quit escorting, has been a trying time with my sexuality. I felt like I no longer owned my body. I became selfish with my self concerning sex. I really didn't want to play with anyone. No one seemed to appeal to me except for Daniel and a very short list of longtime play partners. I figured out since I let anonymous people have me for money, only the the most select people I WANTED I played with. This has been hard to explain to Daniel. We would go to parties and nothing. The guy just wouldn't turn me on. There might have been nothing wrong with him; they just didn't appeal to me. Daniel kept thinking I wanted to leave the lifestyle, and it was nothing of the sort. I love swinging, and the friends we have made. Also, I didn't (and still don't) care if Daniel plays with others. I just wasn't interested.
Top this with a sudden weight gain from November to May, and I felt ugly and fat on top of not interested. There has been a change recently. I started walking again, and I've started to lose weight. Not a lot for people to notice right away, but enough for me to know. My wedding band set fits better. My clothes are feeling better. My energy is up. Before this I felt like no one would think me attractive because of the blubber. And, as a self-fulfilling prophesy, some guys in couples didn't want to play with me because of my size. Since that fell in a time of "I don't want to play anyway" , the rejection didn't bother me so much as Daniel not being able to play (Note: in Swinging, some couples will only play with another couple in the same room, called true swap.). Now, the past few parties I feel rejuvenated. So much so that the last house party I felt freer than I have in awhile. Yes I know I'm still fat, but I am doing something about it. Thus, I feel sexier. The true benefit of self responsibility.

Reawakening

Hello All,
Yes I have been damn lazy with the posting lately. I love summer and like to go outside, so not a lot of inside writing time. I have restarted the whole fitness process, like oiling a very rusty engine. It takes much time and effort to return to a place you were before. I have been walking three weeks now, almost every day. I hope to run/walk a 5k in September, and run/walk a 10k in November. My goal is to run a whole race with no walking. Of course, this plan takes time but I go forward, one day and one baby step at a time. I'm up to walking 25 minutes at a time and by the end of this walking program ( http://www.thewalkingsite.com/12week.html) I will be walking up to an hour every other day. I will then start the Couch-to-5K Running Plan http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml and see if I can be ready for the race in November. One day, if I don't destroy every joint in my body, Id love to run a half and full marathon. Being on my way to being fit again has made me feel better about myself.
Daniel is delighted that I am doing this. He is always worrying about my health, and this is helping. I have been having a spell of pain this week, from what I really don't know. Just general achyness in varying degrees. Right now at 2:03 pm, I just feel tired. Last night I was in so much pain I had to take a pain cocktail (2 arthritis strength Tylenol {1300 mg}, 2 Aleve, and a glass of anything caffeinated-AT THE SAME TIME). This concoction was told to me by a doctor, and only used maybe twice a month, since I happen to be really fond of my liver and kidneys. I think it is just my Fibromyalgia reminding me not to get cocky, its still there.

New look and what's been up for a month

I haven't heard any reviews about the new look of the site...proving my point that no one reads it! I have been fighting a extended period of existential lethargy (i.e laziness). I have partially set up a new painting studio in the garage. My sewing room has a dress pattern cut out and ready to put together. And I have done nothing, nada zip. I want my life to have some creative meaning, but I am paralyzed. It could be perfectionism-procrastination, or just being bored. I don't know.

My first month of marriage has been an idyllic one. WE are very much in love and in synch with each other. I made the right choice in following Daniel into the bathroom to say I wanted to play with him. I told an abbreviated version of that story to my niece before the wedding, and the logical mind of this 9 year old going on 20 was shock. How could I go into a bathroom after a BOY! My sage advice was that sometimes honey, you got to reach out and take what you want, and listen to your gut. I should be taking that advice personally about my creativity.

Questions with no good answers

There was a situation not too long ago that happened that I haven't had a chance to sort out in my writings, that I feel I need to address. We were at a swing party, Daniel and I, and were supposed to play with a couple we really liked, that we had been wanting to play with for awhile. Another couple (known here as couple X for privacy), decided to stay, and we couldn't really tell them that the playtime was private. The male part of Couple X I have know for a bit, and have never really been attracted to, decided to play with me. So I decided to take one for the team, because I didn't want to cause trouble by saying no. We started with oral, and I was feeling absolutely no pleasure, so I decided to fake it. The longer I played with him, the more icky I felt, and it didn't feel good. We were doing it doggie style and somehow, he almost penetrated me anally. By accident or on purpose, I don't know. Long time readers will know about my sexual assault-sodomy by my ex, and how I have been dealing with it. At that point I jumped up to the bathroom, and got sick. I just cried and shook. A few minutes later Daniel came in and I told him what happened. He got into the shower with me as I tried to scrub my skin off. I felt less dirty as an Escort.
I didn't come out of the bathroom until couple X left. Luckily, the other couple we were supposed to play with we are close to and I was able to tell them this wasn't their fault. So now the thought of playing with anyone I'm not absolutely 100% attracted too, gives me a kicked-in-the-stomach feeling. So here are a few of the problems this recent situation brings up.
First, I want to make it clear that I love the Swing lifestyle, and do NOT want to leave it. However, it feels like it will be impossible to play with anyone I do not want to play with 100%. And at this point, I could take playing or leave it. The problem is I don't want Daniel to feel guilty for playing himself, and I don't want to feel guilty for saying no. We have a play date set up in the near future, and the male partner of the couple is a nice guy, but too young for me and I'd rather just watch. I am afraid I will be nudged into playing and I'm not sure I'm ready to play with a new person yet. I'm also afraid that I will knock Daniel out of playing with a couple that only play with couples. The good side is that a party is coming up in a few weeks that I think I will be fine at, all the couples are cool and there are several couples there I would LOVE to play with. I hope this will work itself out.

Buddhist Wisdom

"Ananda said: 'Friendship with what is lovely, association with what is lovely, intimacy with what is lovely--that is half of the holy life.'

The Buddha responded: 'Don't say that, Ananda. It's the whole not the half of the holy life. One so blessed with what is lovely will develop a right way of being, a thinking that no longer grasps at what is untrue, an aim that is concerned and ready, a contemplation that is unattached and free. Association with what is lovely is the whole of the holy life.' "

-Samyutta Nikaya
From 'The Pocket Buddha Reader,' edited by Anne Bancroft, 2000.

POETRY ALERT

"I am standing upon a seashore. A ship at my side
spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and
starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty
and strength, and I stand and watch unitl at last she
hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea
and sky come down to mingle with each other. Then
someone at my side says, 'There she goes!'
Gone where? Gone from my sight...that is all. She is
just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was
when she left my side and just as able to bear her
load of living freight to the place of destination.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at
the moment when someone at my side says, 'There she
goes!' there are other eyes watching her coming and
their voices ready to take up the glad shouts 'Here
she comes!' "
- Henry Van Dyke, A Parable of Immortality

The Announcement

We've decided on forever
and forever begins when we
Tabitha Ramos
and
Daniel Napier
get married on
May 13, 2006
at 5:00 PM
The ceremony and reception will be held at
Russel Acton Folk Center
212 Jefferson Street,
Berea, KY 40403
Semi-Formal Attire, or Pirate/"Princess Bride" Costume
R.S.V.P. to
http://www.theknot.com/ourwedding/TabithaRamos&DanielNapier

Writing my new name

I found myself practicing my new name. It is only the second time in my life, after learning to write, that my signature has changed. The muscles in my hand is grumpy, they have been lazy. My signature was down to a science. Now, my hand and mind has to think about what its doing. Witches believe that life goes in circles. I can trace my circle: widow, slut, swinger, whore, friend, lover, girlfriend, fiancee, and now finally again, wife. Maybe I'll start a new circle, mother.

10 Days to go

Well the major things have been done. The clothes and tack have been ordered and in the process of delivery. Most of my bridal party has it together. There is so much minutia to a wedding. However I am blissfully happy and looking forward to the day.

Shakespeare's Sonnett 116

SONNET 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Mabillard, Amanda. An Analysis of Shakespeare's Sonnet 116. Shakespeare Online. 2000. (04/25/2006 ) <>.

[ANALYSIS
[Lines 1-2]* T.G. Tucker explains that the first two lines are "[a] manifest allusion to the words of the Marriage Service: 'If any of you know cause or just impediment why these two persons should not be joined together in holy matrimony'; cf. Much Ado 4.1.12. 'If either of you know any inward impediment why you should not be conjoined.' Where minds are true - in possessing love in the real sense dwelt upon in the following lines - there can be no 'impediments' through change of circumstances, outward appearance, or temporary lapses in conduct". (T.G. Tucker, ed. Sonnets of Shakespeare. Cambridge: University Press, 1924, [192])[Line 5]* 'mark' = a beacon to warn mariners of dangerous rocks.
Sonnet 116 is about love in its most ideal form. It is praising the glories of lovers who have come to each other freely, and enter into a relationship based on trust and understanding. The first four lines reveal the poet's pleasure in love that is constant and strong, and will not "alter when it alteration finds". The following lines proclaim that true love is indeed an "ever-fix'd mark" which will survive any crisis. In lines 7-8, the poet claims that we may be able to measure love to some degree, but this does not mean we fully understand it. Love's actual worth cannot be known -- it remains a mystery. The remaining lines of the third quatrain (9-12), reaffirm the perfect nature of love that is unshakeable throughout time and remains so "ev'n to the edge of doom", or death. In the final couplet, the poet declares that, if he is mistaken about the constant, unmovable nature of perfect love, then he must take back all his writings on love, truth, and faith. Moreover, he adds that, if he has in fact judged love inappropriately, no man has ever really loved, in the ideal sense that the poet professes. The details of Sonnet 116 are best described by Tucker Brooke in his acclaimed edition of Shakespeare's poems:
[In Sonnet 116] the chief pause in sense is after the twelfth line. Seventy-five per cent of the words are monosyllables; only three contain more syllables than two; none belong in any degree to the vocabulary of 'poetic' diction. There is nothing recondite, exotic, or metaphysical in the thought. There are three run-on lines, one pair of double-endings. There is nothing to remark about the rhyming except the happy blending of open and closed vowels, and of liquids, nasals, and stops; nothing to say about the harmony except to point out how the fluttering accents in the quatrains give place in the couplet to the emphatic march of the almost unrelieved iambic feet. In short, the poet has employed one hundred and ten of the simplest words in the language and the two simplest rhyme-schemes to produce a poem which has about it no strangeness whatever except the strangeness of perfection. (Brooke, ed. The Sonnets. London: Oxford UP: 1936, 234)

18 Days to go

The wedding is shaping up nicely. The site is booked, the food is coming along. My dress is ready for final fittings, and Daniel's things are on the way. The minor snafus is making sure that all our attendants have their things and are ready. I have to ask one more person to take part in the ceremony: Dee. Her and Bob have been married 33 years so I think she is fully qualified to read Sonnet 116. I need to get the seating plan sent to the site so they can get everything set up for us. There is always something I'm forgetting. Oh yeah, got to order the wedding cake this weekend!

The DUH Factor, the first in an ongoing series

I am starting a new rant string called the DUH Factor, dedicated to news stories that insult our intelligence by being painfully obvious. Here is the first:

"Goth" youths more likely to self-harm: study - Yahoo! News

"LONDON (Reuters) - Young people who adopt the "Goth" lifestyle of dark clothes and introspective music are more likely to commit self-harm or attempt suicide than other youngsters, according to a study on Friday. "

"Michael van Beinum, a child-and-adolescent psychiatrist, said the Goth subculture might be attractive to young people with mental health problems, allowing them to find a community where their distress might be more easily understood. "

You have a subculture that digs gothic images, black clothing and makeup, vampire literature, and Marilyn Manson, made up mostly of young adults who are so alienated by our culture that they strike back by dressing like corpses, and scaring the crap out of high school administrations everywhere. It took a scientific study to tell the public that this group is more likely to commit or attempt suicide than their mainstream peers......

DUH !!!!!!

Ghosts and Dreams

Angel and Tish have been on my mind lately, a lot. Tish is my mothers younger sister, who died of lung cancer six years ago at the age of 39. Angel was her daughter, who died at the age of 12 three years ago. I have been having dreams about Tish. She had a set of wedding bands she loved that were worth quite a bit to her emotionally and financially. My dreams are that she tries to throw them away, to actually flush them down a toilet. I keep asking her what the hell she is doing, has she lost her mind? However, she never says anything back. She just continues to try to pull them off and disperse with them in one flush. She never succeeds, but I end up walking away disgusted, and waking up confused. I've had these dreams on and off for the past two weeks. Then I went on my 3 times weekly walkabout in Pikeville, and saw the ghost...

The holler (hollow, to those unfamiliar with the local vernacular) road that goes past the apartment to Riverfill Road goes past Pikeville hospital, where coincidentally, Tish died. I was walking past the hospital when I glanced down the hill and spotted a woman pushing a stroller with a handicapped child in it. I was about 50 yards up the hill, looking from a distance through weakening glasses. But, the child that woman was pushing was Angel,I would have sworn on my life. The dark curly hair that was so wiry it would not be brushed down was the same, fought into pig tails. Ice blue eyes stared back at me, and smiled. I actually almost stumbled when I saw her, going so far as slamming my eyes shut to make sure I wasn't seeing things. The vision did not change. The woman put the child in a car, and drove away. I was bereft. The last time I saw Angel was in her casket, and then she shows up where I least expect it. I cried, but kept on walking to gain composure before the natives thought I had lost my mind.

I never had closure with either of them. Tish died while I was in Oregon, and Angel died when I was in Lexington, 150 miles away. I never got to say goodbye properly. Its no question I miss them both terribly. It has even gone so far as for me to seek out where Tish's wedding rings actually went. To my relief, Tish's whole jewelry box is in my sisters possession. Would wearing those rings bring me any closure? I doubt it, and I wouldn't ask Raymond (Tish's widower, Angel's father) for the permission. It would be too painful. And yet....I had that dream again last night. This time she was pulling on them so hard her finger bled. The only explanations I can come up with is that I just miss them, and the upcoming wedding is making me feel their loss even more.

Rapture! A fan letter

I am always just tickled to death when people write me and tell me they not only read my blog, but enjoy it enough to write me about it! Here is the letter in its entirety"

"Actually I was browsing and came across your profile, which then led to your Blog, and just thought you enjoy hearing/reading that for some reason I just couldn't get enough/stop myself. Therefore, best of luck with all your new & wonderful adventures, and definitely please continue to contribute online material for all your (new)fans :)"

S.M [name withheld to protect the innocent, LOL]

Thanks!

ITMFA

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Thanks Dad

I haven't spoken about my biological father much on this blog. He was, and still is, a complex, troubled man. He was the youngest child of a very wealthy couple in South Western Virginia, who he found out later was really his aunt and uncle who adopted him. He went to Vietnam, and came back twisted. He has been an abuser, and is a cross dresser. He disappeared when I was 11 years old, and I found him at age 28. I've seen him once in that time. I speak about him now because his birthday is coming up this week, and I doubt I'll call him. The reason I wanted to write about him is to thank him.

Starting at about 9 years old, he started making me call people for him for information. He would listen to my speaking voice and correct my grammar, enunciation, and timing. He told me he did it because I was so shy I couldn't look someone in the face, much less talk to them clearly. He would make me call and order pizza. I would be the one he made to call about movie times (at a time you talked to a human being for such information). After the call it was nag nag nag if I spoke too fast, or stuttered. Sometimes I would cry it was so bad. He was known for his persuasive use of language, i.e, he could sell swampland in Florida. He told me he didn't want to be ashamed of me. Now, all these years later, I am known for being fairly articulate. I was a telephone operator, and don't mind public speaking. If I had to pick one trait I'm proud of, its my speaking. Thanks Dad

LYRICS ALERT...Z'S FEELING FRISKY

Ah yes...Spring is in the air. I'm getting married in 6 weeks, the antidepressants are working again, and I finally found this song, that I haven't heard in at least 13 years....It brings back very sexy memories



"Sex (I'm A...) "
Berlin

"Feel the fire, feel my love inside you it's so right
There's the sound and the smell of love in my mind
I'm a toy, come and play with me, say the word now
Wrap your legs around mine and ride me tonight

I'm a man - I'm a goddess
I'm a man - Well I'm a virgin
I'm a man - I'm a blue movie
I'm a man - I'm a bitch
I'm a man - I'm a geisha
I'm a man - I'm a little girl
And we make love together

Slip and slide in your wet delight, feel the blood flow
Not too fast, don't be slow, my love's in your hands

I'm a man - I'm a boy
I'm a man - Well I'm your mother
I'm a man - I'm a one night stand
I'm a man - Am I bi
I'm a man - I'm a slave
I'm a man - I'm a little girl
And we make love together

Skin to skin, tongue to oooh! Come on honey hold tight
Come inside, it's a passion play just for you
Let's get lost in that magic place all alone now
Drink your fill from my fountain of love, wet your lips

I'm a man - I'm a teaser
I'm a man - Well I'm a virgin
I'm a man - I'm a one night stand
I'm a man - I'm a drug
I'm a man - Well I'm your slave
I'm a man - I'm a dream divine
And we make love together

I'm a man - I'm a goddess
I'm a man - I'm a hooker
I'm a man - I'm a blue movie
I'm a man - I'm a slut
I'm a man - I'm a geisha
I'm a man - I'm babe
I'm a man - I'm a dream divine
And we make love together
And we'll make love forever"

Sign the Pledge!!! G4 - Attack of the Show

I was watching Attack of the Show a few weeks ago, and came across this wonderful tidbit. Apparently Valentine's Day has been morphed into
The Day of Purity. The Day of Purity was started three years ago by the Liberty Counsel, a Christian law firm in Orlando, Fla, to try to keep teenagers from having sex before a 'biblically correct [paraphrase]' marriage. AOTS came up with its own pledge, The Promiscuity Pledge, from the The Society for the Liberation of Undone Trousers (S.L.U.T). Here it is, in its entirety,

"We hereby pledge to be promiscuous; to do anyone and anything at any time; to march boldly into the whorehouses of the world and joyously dance the horizontal mambo. To “spread the love,” in the dirtiest way, and to have enough sex during our formative years to ensure we know what we’re doing if we ever get married.

We do it for humanity. We do it for freedom. We do it because we love doin’ it. And we do it for our friends, who will think we are totally cool.
This we pledge."

I would like to invite all who read this to pledge the more realistic pledge.....Viva S.L.U.T!!!!!!

HOTH2014.COM - HOTH'S XXII WINTER OLYMPIC BID & PETITION

Shane Igoe and I have a lot in common. We both grew up in the 1970's and 1980's, when the Winter Olympics meant something to Americans. My solution to the waning interest: start making children interested in the sports offered. His solution: hold the games on Hoth.

Yes, Hoth, the winter planet from the Empire Strikes Back. Hey I'm a big Star Wars geek I love the idea. Here's the link : http://hoth2014.com/

In Like a Lamb, Out like a Lion?

Well February has come and gone. I'm sort of glad winter is passing so quickly, what there was of it. March is here, and the pressure grows. I need to find a job. It isn't fair that Daniel has to support me. I haven't kept up my end of the bargain in keeping the house up. This is the worst the fibro has been since 1996. I want to see about getting a job so I can get back into a schedule again. I have a doctors appointment on Friday, and hopefully the will max my meds. The wedding is coming up, and I'm not nearly as prepared as I need to be with the planning. I feel like life is walking right in front of me and I am too tired and in too much pain to reach out and grab it.
Got an email from the old profession. Kinda sent me off kilter. I have no idea who I am anymore, and it seems that the old life with the escorting was someone else's life.

Insomnia and Creepy-Crawly Crotch Rot

This is turning out to be a 2 post a month deal. I must do better. I've been saying that a lot about my life lately. I must do better at: housekeeping, exercising, trying to do my art, planning the wedding, etc. Now add blogging to the list. I must do better at blogging, because you know, I can never do anything good enough to please myself. I'm perpetually displease with myself. Like with sleeping. I don't do that much anymore. In fact I have been up almost 24 hours and I'm not even mildly tired. What I am is wiggly from the aforementioned creepy crawly crotch rot (my sister's term for yeast infection..thanks Samantha!). So here is my current status: buggy eyed and slap happy from no sleep and worry about shit I cant control, and squirmy from, well, you know. ...

AND FOR THE MEN READING THIS........

My darling Daniel offered, before he went out today, to stop by Wal-Mart to get some Creepy-Crawly Crotch Rot Cream on the way home from getting break work done on the car, which the thought of would send most men into a hari kari attempt. TOP THAT FOR WONDERFUL, MEN OF THE UNIVERSE!!!!!!

Fibromyalgia

Some probably would think I've given up the blog. Not true! I have been ill lately. My fibromyalgia has been acting up. I believe I've told you all about this before, but as a refresher:

-First, you begin not to sleep well. Mostly this is chronic but controllable to greater and lesser degrees.
-Then, your muscles begin to hurt, because you aren't getting a recuperative sleep.
-Next, the pain becomes so bad you cannot do daily activities. You actually don't feel like moving at all.
-No exercise= the pain gets worse. You get depressed because you cant do the things you want or used to do.
-And because you are depressed, your sleep gets worse......thus the vicious cycle begins again until one spins out of control.

And I have reached that point. This week has been pretty hellish, and has been building for about a month now. The only way to break the cycle is to up the antidepressant. That will break the depression and fatigue, making me feel the energy to exercise, allowing me to fatigue my muscles the
natural way, thus causing a deeper sleep. The cycle breaks, and I become a functioning member of society again. The last time I maxed my wellbutrin XL, I had so much energy I became a runner. I really miss having the energy to run, and paint, and even do the most normal things. I want to volunteer at the local museum. I want to walk again. I want to start being an artist, and soon a wife.
Daniel has been a pillar of strength. There is really no way to tell him how bad this is, but he is patient and loving, the best thing I need.

Imbolc 2006

The first holiday of the new year. It celebrates the return of the sun to the people, the continuation of the rebirth cycle started at Yuletide. Usually this is the time of year that drives me nuts, since it is normally all snow and darkness. However, our winter cant decide between cold or spring, so it really hasn't been half bad. I consider Imbolc a reminder that warm weather is on its way, just keep some patience. I've had to have a lot of patience so far this new year.

Many of my long suffering readers will remember a character called Mr. Cool. He was an older, wealthier, secret-agent-man-type that convinced my stupid ass that escorting was glamorous. I have been distant from him the past few months, just running his swing club. However, the pills melted what was left of his brain, and he accused me of stealing...again. The problem was I'm getting married to someone else and he can't control me anymore. This group was the last hold. So we started our own club: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Appalachian_Swingers/ .

Mr. Cool did introduce me to the Swing Lifestyle, which I will always thank him for. He put me in a position to learn a lot about myself, and human nature. But, the mindfuck is over. I consider this Imbolc to symbolize the returning to the light of my own life, my own powers, without Mr. Cool's sick influence being there. So Mote It Be!!

No Excuses--an update

Yes, I haven't posted much this new year. The fibromyalgia has been worse this winter than it has in several years, and we really haven't had a cold winter. I have gained a lot of weight, much to my annoyance. I have tried to do regular pain management things, like sleep more and belly dance, but the pain is still there. Sometimes I like the achy feeling, as sick as that sounds. It reminds me that many fibro patients have it a helluva lot worse; at least I'm not on pain pills.

On the good side, my back room is almost ready. All I need is a relatively sturdy table to set up my sewing area and my painting area. Part of me wants to try to talk Daniel into stealing a low table from one of the closed flea market booths in the area....They are the right length and height. I am working on a embroidery art piece, and even have a piece or two I could try to sell on eBay. Still, I miss the painting. I don't feel like a real artist when I don't paint. But soon, I will be back in the saddle and covered in paint.

There is trouble a brewing in the Lifestyle, mostly boring political bullshit, in our group. We have met so many new people, and I look forward to seeing them all at the next Rockers party (next weekend).
Now my hands are hurting, so I must go, I promise to try to post more.

Howl - Allen Ginsberg

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LYRICS ALERT!!!!!

Closer to Fine--Indigo Girls

I’m trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give me insight between black and white
And the best thing you’ve ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously
It’s only life after all
YeahWell darkness has a hunger that’s insatiable
And lightness has a call that’s hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it
I’m crawling on your shores
I went to the doctor,
I went to the mountains
I looked to the children,
I drank from the fountains
There’s more than one answer to these questions
Pointing me in a crooked line
And the less I seek my source for some definitive(the less I seek my source)
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine

And I went to see the doctor of philosophy
With a poster of rasputin and a beard down to his knee
He never did marry or see a b-grade movie
He graded my performance, he said he could see through me
I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind
Got my paper and I was free
I went to the doctor,
I went to the mountains
I looked to the children,
I drank from the fountains
There’s more than one answer to these questions
Pointing me in a crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive(the less I seek my source)
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine

I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.
To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend
And I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
Twice as cloudy as I’d been the night before
And I went in seeking clarity.
I went to the doctor,
I went to the mountains
I looked to the children,
I drank from the fountains
Yeah we go to the doctor, we go to the mountains
We look to the children, we drink from the fountains
Yeah we go to the bible, we go through the workout
We read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout
There’s more than one answer to these questions
Pointing me in a crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive(the less I seek my source)
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine

Blonde joke

Sometimes you just have to love a good blonde joke...http://bluefairlane.blogspot.com/2006/01/blonde-joke.html

The Alchera Project for Dec. 2005

The tree leans away from us,
the string ready to tie it to the roof
of the stationwagon.
It knows it will leave its farm home,
and with one fell blow from an axe,
will morph from tree, to garland, to fire.

Broken hearts covered in coal dust.

My father was a coal miner, for most of the 10 years he was actively in my life. We lived in coal areas as diverse as Kentucky, Illinois, Colorado, and West Virginia. Buchanan, WV, specifically, in an little area called Tallmansville. It was a hauntingly beautiful place, a mix of the Appalachian culture I was used to with some markings of New England. My father worked the mines there, but I couldn't tell you if it was the Sago mines. It was almost 25 years ago, the name has changed. It was definitely that area. I remember the church I saw on CNN, the church where the families of 13 trapped miners sat trying to comfort each other as they waited..and waited. Then, inexplicably to me, there was news of 12 Miners alive. It didn't ring true to me. The levels of methane that was measured, I knew from long experience, couldn't support life that long. Three hours ticked by, then the truth that I had felt all along was revealed: only one survived. I watched CNN as the CEO of the coal company told those people that there had been a mistake. I heard the screams from the church on TV. The coal company knew 20 minutes after the first announcement that it was probably wrong. They let those families sit there, in rapture, for three hours thinking they would see their men alive again. They rushed the only survivor to St. Joseph's, a hospital too small to help him (Pikeville Hospital is bigger). My father got his hand stitched up there, after a piece of coal cut the top of his hand.

I felt a special sickness watching all of this. Unlike 9/11, I was part of the culture these people came from. I know that faith is the deepest part of their psyche. Faith keeps miners going into the mines, hoping they come out alive. Faith that if they keep that job, they feed their families. Faith in a Christian god that miracles happen. The CEO of International Coal group, Ben Hatfield, with one sentence, shattered the one deepest part these people use to survive. I am not a Christian, and I don't believe in an absolute Hell. But the obscenity of letting those people have hope for 3 hours, while knowing the truth, deserves punishment enough for 12 lifetimes in Hell. Actually, a special circle of Hell needs made just for them; one that looks like the tunnels of a deep, dark mineshaft, with eternal suffocation. Forever looking at a tarp, covering an opening, that will never protect you from the fumes you know are coming for you. That is the punishment they deserve.

2005...A hopefully painless overview.

I', going to break this down to be as traumaless as possible:

Jan.-March,
Was in the process of being wooed by a very charismatic man, who talked me into doing things
I never would have done. Ended up having a very bad split from this man, internally, to which he still doesn't know the extent and depth of my loathing of him to this day. This man showed me exactly how dark and deep and complicated a mindfuck could delve. I became an escort, to try to augment my small income, and push the boundaries of how far I would let my mind and body go . I met a lot of interesting people along the way, and learned a great deal about the psyche of men (to their detriment LOL). I had a thoroughly extreme cleansing of my heart, opening it up to better love, that I didn't know was so close.

April-June,
I met Daniel. I let him into my world, the beauty and the ugliness and the depravity. He understood. I began to walk a road with him, one that leads us both the same direction. I found out that, for the first time in many years, what it was to feel real love again, with all the fear and giddiness. I got accepted to the school of my dreams, and began to plan a move to Savannah, GA.

July-Sept.
I changed legitimate jobs, to a much less stressful part of UK. Had a very memorable 4th of July, when old illusions crumbled, and dreams died. And yet, new ones emerged at the same time. Daniel and I realized we could no longer go living apart. I all but ended being an escort. The third anniversary of my husband's death came and went uneventfully, for the first time.

Oct.-Dec.
On Oct. 15, for only the third time in my life, a man got on his knees and asked me to marry him. For only the second time, I said Yes. The plan to move Daniel to Lexington crumbled last minute. So, I took a very big psychological plunge, and decided to move to Pikeville and Eastern Kentucky, the area where I began. I changed my life. I became a housewife. I cut most of the ties I had made after John's death. And like a phoenix ( that gained 20 pounds) I rose to meet the new challenges of a new life with a man I'm not really worthy of, but deeply grateful for loving.

Yule 2005

Today is the shortest day of the year, thus the darkest. There has been alot of darkness in this world this year, with nature striking back, and a unjust war raging. Hopefully, tonight the pagans and witches of the world can dispel the darkness of nature and the soul, and pray that the lengthening of the days will bring a new prosperity of goodness and warmth to the world. The Sun's return will hopefully warm the hearts of all mankind. May you and yours have a very Happy Holy Yuletide!

Famous men I think are incredibly hot, Anderson Cooper... the first of an ongoing series.

Anderson Cooper

I was just reading a really fun article at CNN.com, "Talking sex with Mom - Sep 28, 2005" by Anderson Cooper. I hadn't realized before I read it that Gloria Vanderbilt was his mom. That had to be one hellova childhood! I have followed him on CNN for awhile. His reports on Hurricane Katrina, and currently, the Iraqi elections, have been some of the best in TV journalism, a genre that hasn't been the most impressive lately. Here is a man, though raised in the world of wealth and influence, who chose to be a war correspondent, even when he probably could have chosen any employment in the halls of power. He certainly doesn't mind getting his hands dirty to get the story. Smart, brave men turn me on, and this one is on the top of my list. Salute!

Melodic answer to a universal problem

I love Salon.com, for its sane and progressive attitude. Cary Tennis has a "Dear Abby" sort of column there, and this particular article touched me deeply. The question was: how does a woman handle a boyfriend who is freaked out about her sexual past. The woman's boyfriend, from the reader's telling, considered her dirty and "impure" and wanted her to fix her past (?!?). Here, in it's entirety, is the response:

"You are not a product. You do not have an expiration date. You are not sold used or new. Your value does not go down with every sexual experience. You do not have a finite capacity, like a phone card, after which you are used up.

Neither are you a substance that can be pure or impure. You are no less pure now than when you were born. You will never be less pure than you are right now.

Nor are you an object upon which men have left marks that your boyfriend may discover and interpret. You are not a public place were things are written for others to read. You are not an exotic land that men have visited and reminisce about in comfortable chairs.

You are not a collection of experiences like snapshots in an album, subject to perusal and approval by your boyfriend.

Your past is not a term paper for him to grade. Your past is not something that needs to be repaired. You can't get up on top of it with a ladder and fix it like a roof. You can't do anything about it except regard it with awed attention. It is like the sea, far beyond us, far too deep, far too wide, far too powerful.

You are not a product, or a substance, or an object. You are not any of these things. For want of a better term, you are a creature, a spiritual being.

We are creatures of flesh and light and movement. We go through life. Things happen. We do things. We remember things. Things hurt us, things delight us, things frighten us. We go on. We describe the things that have happened to us and look for the light of understanding in someone's eyes. We are creatures who love and hate. We love and hate and are loved and hated and we go on.

Our past is not a map on our skin, visible to the male gaze. Our past is something we tell. Once we tell it, people sometimes turn away. They can't bear it. They're not strong enough. They have to find the strength. We can't give them the strength. They ask us to put the past back in the past, but we can't do that either. Once we tell it, it's with us in the present.

So tell your boyfriend to lay off with all this talk. Tell him to get some wisdom and some understanding. Tell him to get some humility and some awe. Tell him to go sit by the sea and think about it for days on end until his head hurts and he's thirsty and all he wants is you -- however you are, whoever you are, wherever you've been, whatever you've done."

I, who have dealt with a shady past, appreciate this answer, even though my situation is different than the readers. This answer reaffirms, to all women, that who and what we are is sacrosanct, and not to be judged by imperfect people, no matter if you love them or not. I find it inspiring.

Ghosts..

When people start relationships, they often wish the ghosts of relationships past would disappear. Unrealistic of me, but I was one of them. Daniel and I had a tiff last night over something trivial ( I feel now). He wanted to search for something on the internet, I knew another way of searching for it, and I annoyed him. Showing his emotional maturity, he walked out of the room until he cooled off. Now, if I had any emotional maturity, I would have been ok. But instead, that one adult act of him walking out until he controlled his temper sent me on a tail spin. I shook and cried, and it made it all worse. What should have been a situation where we just stuck our tongues out at each other or flipped each other off turned into a big production. Here's where the ghosts come in.

My late husband John had a temper. He was also very emotionally manipulative. He would stomp off at the least provocation, the least jealousy, and then give me the emotional cold shoulder for hours. He would sleep on the couch, and do everything in his power to make me feel small, for whatever offence. There were times in our marriage where we lived thousands of miles away from my family, and I don't make close friends easily, so I rarely had anyone to talk to when he did this. I would sit in empty rooms, feeling mortified and lonely and scared that he would just walk out and leave me in an isolated place so far away from help. The tables turned when he got sick and was dependent on me, and he did apologize for his behavior before he died. Scars on the psyche usually stay on the soul, and "I'm Sorry" normally isn't a strong enough salve to make them go away.

So, when Daniel walked out of the room, and wouldn't immediately return when I called, it sent a shockwave reaction right into the pit of my stomach. It was like a flashback. I instantly went into this "I'm-sorry-I-wont-do-it-again" appeasement-victim mode, sobbing. Daniel held me when I cried, and I tried to explain why I was so upset over something so stupid. He did rightly by assuring me that there was nothing to fear, he wasn't John. And he begged me not to be on eggshells with him, afraid of upsetting him. This is why I am writing this, to work it out so I never treat him that way. I know I am always safe with Daniel. It just triggered emotions I thought I had buried after John's death.

I love you Daniel, you are my rock. Just please be patient with your silly, skittish fiancee. She's afraid of Ghosts.

Going back to where you've been...

I've been thinking deeply about a program I just watched on PBS, The Appalachians. The vast places I have been in the last 16 years doesn't amaze me as much as the fact that I came back. My teenage life in Martin County, KY was pretty hellish. The mountains weren't beautiful to me, they were ugly, grey, strip mined prison walls in winter, and, it always seemed to be winter. We heated with a coal burning stove; I am allergic to smoke. Thus, I was perpetually sick, either with colds or upper respiratory infections. The smell of coal and wood smoke still make me nauseous. We lived 10 miles away from school, and the road to Inez was a curvy mess. So, I got carsick twice a day, to and back from school. The people around me not only didn't care about who I was, they resented who I was. They didn't care about the outside world, and there was nothing that could do or say to convince me what there was to give a damn about there. As soon as I could, I got out.

And I proceeded to almost get a college education ( I am a 1 1/2 year shy of a degree), and, get married to a man from a vastly different region from my experience(Connecticut). Then, I traveled. I was in Savannah, GA, long enough to grow to love, and still long for, the live oaks and and beautiful southern accents ( so much more elegant than my Appalachian guttural, as I heard it.). We moved cross country by train, and I grew to love Portland, OR and its blissful progressiveness. We then moved to Jackson, WY, and I saw how much one could be swallowed by the mere revelation that is the Teton mountain range. Finally we ended up in Key West, where I grew to love the freethinking lifestyle, and the Conch people, who will truly give you the very shirt on their backs in times of trouble. I ended back in Lexington, KY, after my husbands death, and thought it was punishment to be back in my home state. I grew used to Lex, it was a college town with all the arts and amenities I liked. But I also grew stale, and reckless from the stagnation. Then, came Daniel.

Daniel has also lived all over the country, and also married outside his home base. He ended up back home. The day he invited me to move in with him, to Pikeville, I cried. I tried my best to get him to Lexington, but I now know it wasn't meant to be. The Goddess has a plan, and it was Her plan to put me back here. Back amongst the demons I thought were still here. I was so very wrong. Pikeville has blossomed, it isn't the same place I remember from high school trips here. I was scared because I thought that the goblins of my youth were still here. All I had ever felt here before was oppression, impotence, and hopelessness. I have come to realize, tonight, after watching The Appalachians, is:
* I am my own woman, not helpless. I control what I think and feel. I feel empowered now that I am back here living on my own terms. I will make this place into what I chose. I am a witch, an artist, a swinger, and liberal. I will mold this place to fit me, not the other way around.
* This program shocked me into realizing the richness of culture that was here to begin with. The Scot-Irish that settled here, and from which Daniel and I both sprung from, also made their own life here, by their own rules. They either brought, or created anew, their own art. It humbled me that these very brave, independent people sought this area out as a spiritual and cultural haven for them and their offspring. I feel that, in so many ways, I have disgraced that heritage. I can live my life by my principles, as they did, and respect their sacrifice.

So, I have had my eyes opened once again. I intend to concentrate on learning the mountain arts the best I can, to the best of my ability, to do my part to honor my ancestors with the skill I have, that came from them all along.

First Emperor of the World

This is the site of the First Emperor of the World's Yahoo site. Might be the only thing that protects us against Republicans, the extreme Right and militant born again Christians !

http://360.yahoo.com/first_emperor_of_the_world

Will somebody PLEASE sew my mouth shut....

...before I start getting phone calls from Richard Simmons? I feel huge, and ugly. I can't seem to stop eating. I don't know if its where I'm just getting used to being alone a lot, or subtle depression, or what. I hate to look in the mirror. I can't help but thinking back on those happy months where I was a honest to goodness runner, as some of my long suffering readers will remember. I was also on a MUCH higher dose of anti depressants. I've been trying to fight the urge to call Mountain Com. (the local mental health dept. for people with no insurance) to try to see about adjusting my meds. What the fuck is the matter with me?

My sentiments exactly.....

"I don't know how you feel, but I'm pretty sick of church people. You know what they ought to do with churches? Tax them. If holy people are so interested in politics, government, and public policy, let them pay the price of admission like everybody else. The Catholic Church alone could wipe out the national debt if all you did was tax their real estate."
-George Carlin-

Bill Hicks - Quote alert!!!

"This is it, folks. This is the idea which has kept me virtually unknown for the past 16 years. I have watched my crowds dwindle. I am going nowhere, and nowhere quick, but, those of you who have children, I am sorry to tell you this, but they are not special. Wait! I know some of you are going "what, what?" Let me just clarify: I know YOU think they're special ... ha ha ha! I'm aware of that. I'm just here to tell you, that they're NOT! Ha ha ha ha! Sorry. Did you know that every time a guy comes he comes two-hundred million sperm? One out of TWO-HUNDRED MILLION – that load, we're only talking about one load – connected: gee, what are the fucking odds? Do you know what that means?
I've wiped nations off've my chest with a grey gymsock.
ENTIRE CIVILISATIONS HAVE FLAKED AND CRUSTED IN THE HAIR AROUND MY NAVEL! [...]
I've tossed universes in my underpants while napping. Boom! A Milkyway shoots into my jockeyshorts:
"Unngh ... what's for fucking breakfast?!"

I feel pretty? I don't think so...

I actually feel like I look like utter shit. I have become a noodle since I quit working a typical job. I should be out walking, learning my surroundings. I am not. It seems that I have completely caved into my agoraphobia. I simply do not want to leave the house, not even to check the mail ( I check it about every other day). My little inner Crab is delighting in the supreme feeling of safety. I am gaining weight, but can't seem to summon the energy to move. I have caved into the chronic fatigue, because I have no driving reason,that my survival depends on, to make me leave this apartment. My mind, however, is screaming for company. Everyday I wait for IMs, so I can connect with people. I should have this house ready for me to start painting, but I am behind. I feel defeated.

Mummers Dance (Lorena Mckennitt) - Lyric alert!!!!

Oh...
Oh...
When in the springtime of the year
When the trees are crowned with leaves
When the askhand oak,
And the birch and yew
Are dressed in ribbons fair.
When owls call the breathless moon
In the blue veil of the night
The shadows of the trees appear
Amidst the lantern light.
We've been rambling all the night
And sometime of this day
Now returning back again
We bring a garland gay
Who will go down to those shady groves
And summon the shadows there
And tie a ribbon on those sheltering arms
In the springtime of the year
The songs of birds seem to fill the wood
That when the fiddler plays
All their voices can be heard
Long past their woodland days
We've been rambling all the night
And sometime of this day
Now returning back again
We bring a garland gay
And so they linked their
Hands and danced
Round in circles and in rows
And so the journey of the night descends
When all the shades are gone
A garland gay we bring you here
And at your door we stand
It is a sprout well budded out
The work of Our {Lady's} hand
We've been rambling all the night
And sometime of this day
Now returning back again
We bring a garland gay
We've been rambling all the night
And sometime of this day
Now returning back again
We bring a garland gay

*{MY EDIT}

The Alchera Project

The Alchera Project (http://www.alcheraproject.com) is a website that makes you think about the stuff you put in your blog/site. Once a month, the blogger chooses from one of several options for writing, then submits it. Since, I feel, my blog has grown stale from all the excitement happening elsewhere, I am going to participate. Here is this month's assignment:

"Free-write/Option No. Three: [ top ]
This month I'm going to be more specific with the free write option. Every now and then something will trigger a memory for me, one that I'd completely forgotten. Sometimes the trigger is a smell, a song or even just overhearing someone talking. Seeing as this happens to me a few times a month, at least, I hope it works like that for everyone else. If not, my apologies. Usually I remember something and then the next day I've completely forgotten about it again. So this month, if an old memory is triggered, try to write it down and then come back to it later, when you have the time, and free-write on it."

My memory happened this evening, after a long-delayed call to my biological father. His voice, after not hearing it for so long (almost a year) sent me spinning back to the 11 years he was in my life. He always moved around from place to place, so I vividly recalled a time where he had decided to just pack up and move from West Virginia to Colorado, on a whim it seemed. My sister and I were young, 9 and 7 years old, and had been forced to throw all of our precious childhood things into plastic bags. We were not allowed to tell anyone from school we were leaving until the very last minute. We had been up very late the night before the move, then got up early to go to school. Then, after the day ended, we were driving on to Colorado. We walked from the playground to the car. I opened the door and ordered my younger sister in, which she said no to. "Get in the car!" "No you get in!" began as grumpy orders and escalated to all out, full shrieking. After what seemed to be several minutes of this, my father jumped out, threw us in the car and drove off before the principle could walk over and see what was wrong. We sobbed hysterically, literally just wailed, for a half hour after we got in. I remember my father saying, "Aww, they are just a little stressed, they will get over it." to my (obvious to me now) pissed off mother. I am astonished now on just how callus he was, not caring about the affects all the moving caused, or the trauma to our psyches. disappeared when I was 11, and I never talked to him again until I was 28. And to this day, he is clueless about this incident, and in fact claims not to remember it at all.

First post from the new life.

I know I have been neglectful of my blogging recently. I have been trying to figure out my new life and get it as organized as possible. I've been trying to change over from singleton to partnered. There are things I never understood clearly, until now.

It is a good thing I like my own company...

My poor Daniel has worked several 16 hour shifts in the past week and a half. During the week, I might see him roughly 4 hours a day if that. For that reason alone I'm glad I'm here. He would work himself into the ground, and not take care of himself. At least with me here he had clean clothes, fresh food, and a warm place to sleep. I still feel guilty that I benefit more from the fruits of his labor than he does. Hopefully, once I get everything organized, it will be better.

Sleep deprivation can be a good thing...

Daniel leaves for work at 2PM, he returns at 4AM on regular nights, barring overtime. In order to spend more time with him, I've been attempting to get on his schedule, with mixed results. It takes me back to the time where I worked 2nd shift, and changed over to a 8am-4:30PM job. The sleep disruption then was horrendous. I was getting 3 hours of sleep a day trying to crowbar my internal clock into submission to the new order. Now, I'm changing back to my much-loved night owl ways, yet it seems just as hard as when I changed it the first time. Who knew getting to sleep in would be so tough?

Getting used to the lay of the land...

I haven't gotten out to explore my new surroundings yet. I've been doing aerobics on Fittv, and haven't ventured into a stroll around the new hood. I seem to be in a nesting phase, where this little Cancer loves being in her shell. Eventually I will go out on foot and explore Pikeville on foot one end to the other. Right now, I am happiest indoors.

Samhain 2005

I bet all of you, in my preoccupation with all things move and wedding related, thought I had forgotten the most important holiday on the Witches calendar. No so. In fact, it has been a constant thought these past days leading up to it. I will never be too busy for my faith. I laugh at the goals I had from last year, since I met none of them. But there are a few things I want to mention.

Those who have past away:
Daniel's Grandfather Cummings
Lonnie Davis, my best friend(and aunt) Margaret's mother.
My great Aunt Elsie Daniels

What I am thankful for:
Daniel, because he genuinely proved I could love again.
My painting, because I realize I do have an ability that should not be wasted.
My health, even though it has been fragile
My family, who have welcomed Daniel as one of their own.
Daniel's family, who has equally embraced me.

AND (deep breath), the three things I want to accomplish in the new year:
Get married (April 2006)
Be pregnant this time next year, since time's a wastin'
And a repeat from last year, have a show of my paintings ready.

Blessed be too all in the New Year.