I'm going to get you my Pretty..and your cold too!!

I really have no intention of turning this into a mommy blog. You know mommy blogs: incessant blogging about diapers, breast feeding, and how their particular chick is more spectacular than any body's. One day, I might morph into that when I hatch my own young, but until then, I will try not to bore you with posts about Kailey, my step-Imp.

We got to see her this weekend at her maternal grandmothers house, and meet various in-laws, outlaws, and Kailey's mother's boyfriend. He and Daniel were cordial if not best buddies, and I hope his (Mike the BF) worries about us has been put to rest. Kailey was Kailey: she knew that All were

her abject slaves, and Daniel and I are no different. She points, and 4 people jump to fetch. She is getting more comfortable with Daniel, which was sweet to see.

The only snag in this situation is the DNA test. We are set to do it this weekend if we get the test kit on time, and our friend Edie is set to be the "impartial third party" that performs the various and sundry things that DNA tests require. I believe she is his: she looks like him and has many physical traits that are genetic that points to that conclusion. What we haven't figured out is what we do if she's not Daniel's. We have been warned not to fall in love with this baby until we knew for sure, but alas, it's too late, and I knew it would be.

Oh as for the title of this entry. The little Imp gave me her cold, so I will have to kiss her face off for that :P

Planning the next party..

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One extreme to another...the first day of the Gazelle

I climbed on to the machine buck ass naked. It struck me as a very ancient Olympics thing to do. Grabbing the handles, I reminded myself that I have completed 2 5K runs, and I used to run 20 miles a week. I felt strong; I felt good....
5 Minutes later my naked ass was on the floor gasping for breath while every muscle in my body body burned. The memories of athletic glory dripped away with the sweat. I didn't have to remind myself that I was at the beginner stage all over again, my heaving, asthmatic lungs reminded of that fact pretty quickly. At the first I was hearing Strauss' Also Sprach Zarathustra (2001 A Space Odyssey) soaring over me....
The end sounded more like Yakety Sax (Benny Hill).

Meeting Kailey

As you can see, the first meeting between me and Kailey went reasonably well. Her mother brought her to the apartment, with her Auntie, this past Saturday. She did what babies do: she tried to get her daddy to lift her up so she could get ahold of the hanging lamp, she used the popcorn tin as a bongo, and tried to climb into the TV when The Backyardigans came on. She didn't really let me hold her, but did let Daniel hold her a bit longer. We are still strangers to her, but won't be for long.

The last picture of her asleep is the special one. She's sleeping on the magical Purple Fuzzy Binky. I blessed this blanket in Key West, and my late husband John gave it it's name. I put a special spell of healing and protection on it, to comfort someone I loved into sleeping well. It's good to see the magic is still working.

Ski Machines and the State of the Union

I decided I would multitask during Monkeyboy's ( Our President's) yearly exercise in futility, The State of the Union address, and put together my Gazelle Elite at the same time. It seemed a logical idea, and at least something constructive would come from the otherwise wasted time. With power drill and wrench in hand, I was piecing the Gazelle together while I listened to Dorks the Clown go on and on about the war in Iraq being about terrorism, that this time his plan would work in Iraq, yada yada. Then the epiphany came.
Using a Gazelle is essentially cross country skiing to nowhere: you get on, you act like you are skiing for 30 minutes, you get off. Nothing is accomplished except making your heart rate go up for a certain amount of time. You don't really enjoy it, but know in the long run, you will feel better. The State of the Union speech is the same thing; you act like you are getting somewhere by listening, your heart rate goes up (usually in anger or derisive laughter), the speech ends. You really didn't enjoy it, but know that you will feel better in the long run because this Fucktard will be out of office soon. I like the analogy.

The way things are

There were things I wanted to do today

I wanted to call mom

get 1000$

fly to Key West

and never come back.

But I wont

I cant

I love you too much

you are my life's blood

the oxygen in my lungs

how could even think

I could I leave my soul...

We have a baby to raise :D

Summing up the week.

This has been a very stressful time for me. Ive been busy getting the house ready for the visit from the baby and her mother this weekend, working on getting the mortgage set up, and all the paperwork to free up the money for the down payment. I feel like a wound up guitar string ready to snap sometimes. I did get out with my friend Edie for awhile yesterday which helped enormously. Creatively, I haven't had much time to paint, but I have been able to cross stitch and play a bit with the watercolors, and that is the most soothing thing.
The biggest, and most useless fear a human being can have is a fear of the unknown. I deal with fears like that a lot. I just need to get to this weekend visit, to get through the tension and awkwardness of the situation, and things should be fine. One of my dreams has always been to live in my own house. Now that possibility is right in my lap, but I can't really enjoy it until I get these feelings out of my way about Kailey's arrival into our lives. If this baby is Daniel's, I will be first in line to spoil her silly, and love her to death. Here is where the fear of the unknown steps up: what if she isn't his child, and we both get our hearts broken?

This ain't my first rodeo...

..as a step parent. My long suffering readers know I have four already, two being older than I am, two being in their late 20's-early 30's, by my first husband. They came with their own histories, already raised and well on their own path. In fact , the step-son that is just one day older than me is currently also my sister's husband (after John his father died). There was no way for me to warp their minds...that had been done for me years before.

A baby is something different. Babies are little sponges that pick up the least thing. Most people know moms and dads, then go through a divorce, then deal with step parents. This sweet baby wont, at least, have that trauma to go through. I intend to be the only person she will ever know to be married to her dad. That's some big shoes to fill.

The good thing is, she will get another set of grandparents, Aunt and uncle and a slew of cousins in the bargain. My family adore Daniel, and any child of his is one of the family no question.

The "big" little surprise..by Daniel

This is verbatim from Daniel's blog:

"Sit down before you read this... and if you drink get one

This Saturday Tabitha and I went out for dinner and we were waiting for our friends at the restaurant I saw that I had a missed call... so I looked at the # and didn't recognize it.. so I called it back. On the other line was a girl that I was playing with the same time that Tabitha and I first starting out our friendship... Tabitha knew that she, Ashley, and I was messing around but Ashley had issues with the whole swinging lifestyle... so disappeared to find a more conventional relationship.
I had heard that Ashley shacked up with a guy right after me so I didn't bug her and six months after that I met up with her uncle, which is a good friend of mine, and he told me Ashley was pregnant. The first thing I asked was "Am I the father?" and first he stuck out his chest to look like Billy Bad ass and said"That's what you and I need to talk about." ...then he broke into a grin and said "Nah, she knows it's this other guy, I had to mess with ya." I told him to give her my best and that I was happy for her.
Fast forward back to this past Saturday, Ashley asked if I remembered her and I told her that I did and I was glad to hear from her... I was asking questions like "How are you? Where have you been? I heard you were having a baby how is it?"...
That's when she dropped the bomb....
"That's really why I'm calling, you see... I believe the baby is yours."
Well at first, I was dumbfounded, I didn't know what to say, so I let her tell me more about the circumstances. When she found out that she was pregnant she knew it had to be either me or this other dude, (I don't know his name... nor do I care), well when she told him he bolted and she never heard from him again and for the longest time she really thought he was the father, and then she heard of Tabitha and I getting married, and didn't want to intrude with us and was afraid of how I would react, how Tabitha would react, and her boyfriend now that had been with her through the pregnancy didn't want me to know because he was afraid that I would try and get her back, blah blah
The next feelings I had were, OK so I may be a daddy... how is Tab going to handle this? Tabitha and I have been trying to have a baby for awhile, well since we got married anyways, and here comes another lady that has a child by me.
The next was anger for not knowing... but that went away quick... cause I have time to catch up. But all and all I was anxious to meet the baby to see for myself. So I made plans to see the baby the next day.
Well I decided that it would be better to see the baby without Tabitha, just because of all the emotions that I would be having I knew Tabitha needed time getting used to the idea and would be as emotional as I and I really didn't think it would have been pretty. So I went and seen her...
The first time I saw her I knew she was mine, and when she first saw me she smiled, put her hand near her mouth and acted all shy on me but she didn't stop grinning... well until she got tired... Things went well with the mother and she and I were just concerned with the baby.
When I came home I showed pictures of the baby to Tabitha ... she cried and told me she was beautiful and that she was upset more that she wasn't the first that was able to have my baby than any other reason. I held her in my arms and let her know that it was OK.... Tabitha is my life, my lover, my wife, and my best friend, and means more to me than anything. The only thing different now is that I have two women that I would die for. Tabitha... and my daughter Kailey Nicole..."

Some thoughts

Some thoughts...

35 tends to be the age where women are usually half-way to where they are going with their lives. They either chose the housewife route early, and have half grown children, or are well established in their careers, and are just contemplating motherhood. Or they are late bloomers, like me, who feel like they are perpetually stuck in the middle, on paths that wiggle and worm. I have always been a restless late bloomer, normally content to do her own thing and let life carry her where it wants her to be. Career wise, Ive done quite a few jobs in my time, some more legal than others, and have learned from most of them. When I was younger, I always assumed Id have a child some time, when it was meant to be. I always liked being a late bloomer, because the expectations that I would amount to something stupendous and monumental had relaxed, and the pressure to be something I'm not had lessened. At 35, I find that I just am. I exist in the world and since the first flush of promise has passed me, if I do something earth shattering now, it will come as a completely pleasant surprise to my family and friends. I felt this complacency until the phone call at dinner on Saturday night.

Saturday night I realized now that age is not the friend I thought it was. The realization that some things have to be done before you get too old to do them hit me right between the eyes, the proverbial curve ball I didn't see coming to dodge. Now, I am afraid like I have never before been in my life. the possibility of giving my husband the one thing I want and thought I could give him just might have been given by someone else. The look of astonishment and awe a man gets when they get this particular gift for the first time has been taken away from me.

A painter wants to paint a picture, one that can only come from her talent. It is so special she wants to give it to her love, knowing he has never had anything like it before. She looks at the canvas, and keeps looking, unable to get the picture on the canvas. Her love knows how hard she tries to paint the picture, but it just wont happen. Then, in an instant, she looks around and that special painting was painted by someone else, ans she will not be first to give it to her love. Meanwhile the canvas still sits propped up, bare and empty, waiting.

(Insert Circus Music)

It is amazing how one minute you can be sitting in a restaurant, waiting for friends to meet you there, when the cell phone rings. Then, less than a minute later, the life of you and your husband spins like a whirling dervish in another direction totally. Life can throw complicated and wonderful and terrible curve balls right at you. Sometimes the curve ball misses, sometimes its a glancing blow, sometimes it beans you right between the eyes. Daniel has first dibs on telling this story. Once he has posted his blog on his site, I will re-post that entry here, then my response to it. You are hereby warned.

Further article on "Ashley treatment"

I have been discussing the "Ashley treatment" and Pillow angel theme with a lot of people lately, not so much from the blog, but amongst our friends. My view of the situation, that the parents did the right thing by their daughter, has made me sound like a Nazi compared to others in the Medical and Disabled Community. However, the editors of Scientific America, on their site blog, have a different opinion. The article, in its entirety: http://blog.sciam.com/index.php?title=title_5&more=1&c=1&tb=1&pb=1

"January 4, 2007
06:23:43 pm, Categories: Ethics and Science, Medicine, Politics and Science, Public Policy, 980 words
Pillow Angel Parents Deserve Credit, Not Blame

Our online news editor here--Lisa Stein--asked me to post the following for her about the "pillow angel" story from today. Without further ado:
Parents of a severely disabled girl recently revealed that they took the dramatic step of keeping their nine-year-old daughter pint-sized to, in their view, give her a better life. The child, Ashley, has a condition called static encephalopathy, a rare disorder that causes permanent brain damage. The effects on development depend on the part of the brain involved and on the severity of the damage. Developmental problems may include any of a range of disabilities such as cerebral palsy, learning disabilities, mental retardation, autism, PDD, speech delays, attention deficits, hearing and vision impairments, oral motor problems... Ashley's parents, who live in Seattle, report their daughter has the mental capacity of a three-month old baby and cannot walk or talk; they call her "Pillow Angel," because she doesn't move from wherever they put her down, usually on a pillow.
These parents feed and bathe Ashley, clothe and carry her--just as they would an infant. Recognizing she would never improve, they decided to start controversial treatments three years ago that involve giving her hormones to minimize her growth. This has kept her small and made it easier to care for her and involve her in family activities. Ashley's parents also opted for surgery to block breast growth and had her appendix and uterus removed (since she will not be bearing children) to eliminate bleeding and discomfort that might accompany a period. They began administering the hormone therapy in July 2004 through patches on the skin. Ultimately, it could reduce her adult height by 20 percent and her weight by 40 percent.
The parents said on a blog that they were driven by a desire to "provide Ashley with the best quality of life'' and not by the convenience that keeping her tiny might afford them.
Who are any of us to second-guess their motives--or to judge what they have done? Unless parents of children with similar ills, we can imagine but cannot possibly know what goes into dealing with a child in such circumstances, a child who will never grow emotionally or intellectually, never be able to learn or to play... who will be forever dependent on us or on someone else for her care.
It is hard enough to raise a healthy child--let alone one with a condition like Ashley's. Clearly, these parents did not reach their decision lightly or on their own: They sought the input and the approval of a panel of ethics experts at the University of Washington in Seattle--and the treatment was only started after its OK. The board debated and thoroughly explored all of the ethical questions involved, such as whether these parents have the right to tamper with nature and to prevent this child from growing physically or to ever have children of her own.
Dr. Douglas Diekerna, who was on the ethics committee, told the BBC that the panel gave its go-ahead "because the parents convinced us it was in fact in this little girl's best interests... If she were smaller, it would be much easier for them to continue to provide a much more personal level of care.
"Dad is frequently the one that lifts her from one place to the other, so if she gets bigger that becomes much more difficult,'' he said, "as they get older it becomes more difficult. At that point in time, they would be forced to consider using a mechanical lift, which is much more impersonal."
The parents insist that they did not do this to make their lives easier. "Rather," they wrote on a blog, "the central purpose of the treatment is to improve Ashley's quality of life... Faced with Ashley's medical reality, as her deeply loving parents, we worked with her doctors to do all we could to provide Ashely with the best possible quality of life."
Despite the parents' claims, many criticized their actions, arguing, among other things, that this could open the door for parents to impose medical treatments on their children designed to suit their own selfish needs. Where will this stop? some ask.
On the face of it, what these parents are doing might seem inhumane, barbaric, even; some would argue that they have no right to violate Ashley's personal freedom or tamper so flagrantly with nature or, if religious, charge that the parents have no right to interfere with Ashley's God-given body.
They all have their points, but, in the end, it is the parents who must decide what is best for their child.
Ashley has the mental ability of a three-month old infant and physicians have said there is no hope of her ever improving. She cannot walk or talk, she cannot care for herself now and there is no chance that she will ever be able to care for herself.
And therein lies the heart of the matter. It is very easy to judge from afar, but the bottom line is that these parents are doing what many others have chosen not to do or cannot do, perhaps because of a lack of federal and state support: They are caring for their severely disabled child, while others in their situation may have (and have) thrown in the towel long ago and turned over her care to someone else, perhaps even institutionalized her. They deserve credit not criticism. These parents have given us no indication that they are self-motivated, that they are driven by their own needs or greed. If they were, they would have washed their hands of the whole matter the moment they realized the hopelessness of Ashley's situation and the emotional and physical toll her care would take on them.
They also deserve credit for publicly revealing their plight--and opening the debate on such a volatile subject so that others might benefit from the discussion."

new blog

I finally went ahead and started the new blog for my art, entitled
Covered In Paint
http://zezrie-coveredinpaint.blogspot.com/

I will add the link to my links list, and please feel free to criticise if you want.

The Weekly Farewell

The routine is mostly the same every week. We stay up way too late Sunday night , and go to be at 8am on Monday morning. I usually get up earlier than him, and pack the suitcase around 1Pm. Today, I was up with a sad tummy and packed it at 10am between potty breaks, while he slept. The contents of the suitcase? Four changes of clothes for the week, and a towel.

I went to be at about 10:30ish, and got up at 1:30. We got some new pirated movies this weekend and I started making copies for him. He made a pot of coffee for his thermos and mug, and got the Gamecube packed up. He got the new Legends of Zelda Twilight Princess this weekend with Xmas money, and he will play it for weeks. After copying movies, at 2:30, I get dressed and help him carry down all the stuff he's taking with him. The great ceremony we go through each time before he leaves the house is to ask him this: do you have your keys, wallet, cell phone, and smokes? If he does, he's set to go. It is colder than what I realized, I didn't have a coat on. he has no window in the passenger side of the truck, so good thing he is bundled up in the leather jacket. I give him a huge kiss and hug, and watch him pull out on the beginning of the two hour drive for West Virginia and away from me.

This is the beginning of the week for me. Now, until early Saturday morning, I am usually alone in silence. The first day or two I enjoy it, since my beloved tends to run on all cylinders, and it can be exhausting to keep up with him sometimes. By Wednesday, the silence is deafening. By Friday, I'm chomping at the proverbial bit waiting for him. The week is usually made up of housework, blogging, sometimes painting, and a lot of educational TV and PlayStation 2. I'm sitting here, sipping leftover coffee from his pot he made, writing this all down because it can be so surreal at times. This grounds me.

GRRRRRRRR.. Medical Ethicists

Before I begin to rant, I will fill you in a bit on what I'm bitching about. The parents of little girl named Ashley, who has severe brain damage and is pretty much in an infantile state, decided to have her go through surgery to remove her reproductive organs, and extreme hormone therapy to stunt her growth. The parents argument is that this was done for three reasons: to keep her small so they could continue to care for her at home, to keep her from going through the pain of puberty, and to keep from getting breasts, as breast cancer runs in her family.

Now, again before I rant, let me share with you why I have a right to bitch. I have been a caregiver to a severely handicapped child that, before her death, had to be put into a nursing home because she grew to 5'4, too big to be taken care of by her also disabled father. I have also been the sole caregiver to an adult male who at his lightest was still 125 lbs. The medical ethicists around the country have been pitching a fit, claiming the parents "perverse" to stunt this child's growth just to make it easier for them to care for. University of Pennsylvania ethicist Art Caplan went so far as to say that this case was a ' "slippery slope" thinking among parents who believe "the way to deal with my kid with permanent behavioral problems is to put them into permanent childhood."'
(http://www.cnn.com/2007/HEALTH/conditions/01/04/ashley.treatment.ap/index.html

Here is my bitch: has any of these learned doctors ever taken care of a disabled person? Have they had to pick up a person the same size as they are out of a bed, or off a toilet, or into a wheelchair by themselves ? have they ever had to look into the eyes of a disabled person after that person has been taken away from everything they have ever known, to be taken care of by strangers who could be indifferent to their well being? I have, and I'd rather cut my own heart out than to ever see it again. Until any of these ethicists can tell me that they have, then I do not want to hear them caterwaul about this little girls parents. This child will never be intellectually or developmentally older than 6 months old. These parents are guaranteeing that they will be able to care for her their whole lives without the worry of dropping or hurting her because she is too big to be lifted. They will never have to see her go through the difficulty of menstruation. They will also never have to worry about her developing health problems from hereditary breast cancer down the road. In the CNN article, the child's own doctors agreed to go through with the procedures because they saw the dedication of the parents, and knew they were not doing this for selfish reasons. They also knew this little girl would not go through further harm from the treatments to stunt her growth.

Until the day our society begins to make caregiving of the elderly and disabled a major priority, I do not want to hear one person criticise these parents. they love their daughter, and want to keep her at home where she would get the best care. Until ethicists learn that caregiving is more than just changing diapers, and they walk in these parent's shoes a few miles, I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR THEM, AND THEY CAN SHUT THEIR FUCKING MOUTHS.

Key West dreaming...

"Reading departure signs in some big airport

Reminds me of the places I've been.

Visions of good times that brought so much pleasure

makes me want to go back again."

"Changes In Latitudes, Changes In Attitudes"

Jimmy Buffett

Somewhere deep in my DNA I was born with a travelling bone. I blame my father for this, he never could sit still. by the time I was 11 and he deserted us in Kentucky, I think I had lived in 6 states and travelled cross country 4 times. It wasn't until I was 25, and met a man with a wandering streak himself, that I realized i could let that gypsy run free..and I did. During my first marriage, I travelled cross country twice and lived in 5 states. I have seen 38 states in my life. I miss Key West the most.

The funny thing is probably some of the hardest parts of my adult life was in Key West. My husband was diagnosed with leukemia after living there 3 weeks, so no insurance. I worked nights sometimes 60 hours a week, then never slept during the days to take care of him. On advice of my therapist (Goddess only knows how I survived without her) I walked, then ran everyday after work. I got to know every nook and cranny of old town Key West that way. There's a hidden park in the middle of Solares Hill that I would stop by and cry during my walk/runs. I would go from the Casa Marina on the Atlantic to the shrimp docks on the Gulf of Mexico. I was so stressed out, but funny enough, I don't ever think I felt so alive and so dead at the same time. I had enough intuition to know when to leave it, because I knew I had to take John home to die, deep inside me. It was still one of the hardest things Ive ever done.

It has been 5 years since I left Key West. I know probably no one remembers me there anymore. I have heard amputees talking about feeling their missing limb even after it's gone (including my mother), and I feel that way about KW sometimes. Like that little island was a part of me that was violently taken away, and the missing of it still aches unbearably sometimes. It was the only place that felt like home for me for a long time. Maybe I will talk Daniel into taking a trip there one day. I just fear, like some memories tend to do, that my memories of Key West will be destroyed if I ever go back, that the rose colored glasses will be removed. Alas, I still want to go.

Rockers wipes me out

We went to a Rockers party this past weekend for new years. I believe I'm coming out of my phase about playing. Its probably because I have come to accept my body and not care what anyone else thinks. I didn't say I LIKED my body, mind you, just that i have accepted that this is what it is and try to improve the best I can during cold weather. Needless to say, we both had a good time, and I didn't sleep a lot. I have been playing catchup all this week, with today being the day i just collapsed and slept 20 hours. It takes me a week to recover nowadays. The cold weather and lack of sleep and over excitement gets me. LOL I'm not stopping either .

Some would say, "What cold weather?" It has been unseasonably warm in the Southeast. It is not, however, warm enough for me to function at all cylinders. Warm to me is 75 degrees, warm enough to have open windows and for me to go outside in shorts and short sleeves. It wont be that until May, so for now I deal.

Happy friggin new year

Well, 2007 is finally here: last years events:
Got married,
did some painting,
failed at being a Housefrau (lucky for me Daniel loves me anyway),
gained weight, lost weight, gained weight,
got laid (as much as I wanted),
became a video gamer, specializing in RPG's (gee thanks honey),
got depressed, got meds, got better.

This is a short list, since my new year was technically Oct. 31. Spent last night with my three favorite people: Daniel, Mom and Dad. I had half a daiquiri-I'm such a partier. I started out 2007 making love with my husband, what better way to start a new year.

Cool new network site for artists.

The world famous Saatchi Gallery has a new section called Stuart (http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/stuart/) especially for beginning, student, or under represented artists. Its essentially a MySpace for artists. The buzz is that artists are getting sales on this site that they normally wouldn't get so early in their careers. Since I have no illusions about my artistic ability, none of my stuff is there yet. It is, however , cool to look at the profiles and see what others are doing in the art world.

Xmas post..What love really means: The Best

This was posted on Xmas eve by brainhell (http://brainhell.blogspot.com/)
as a letter to his wife I assumed. He has ALS, and is deteriorating rapidly.

"You will probably feel a LOT of guilt over the circumstances of my death. This is because it is likely to seem like a preventable accident. I will probably suffocate somehow. And you will blame yourself for not being home, or not responding faster to that noise. I may even be trying to get to you, and might die in evident distress. Sure, suffocating scares me -- I'll be frightened. But unless you take a golf club to my head, know that I DON'T BLAME YOU. I do not want you feeling guilty over something that crept up on us so slowly. Listen to me: My death happened. The circumstances may have been desperate, but I'll know then as I know now: THERE'S NOTHING TO BLAME YOURSELF ABOUT. I lived much longer and much more happily because of you."

There are so many of his posts about his wife and how she takes very good care of him. Care giving is one of the most difficult and rewarding things you can do for a spouse. I had the privilege of being one once to John, and Goddess forbid, I would be one again in a heartbeat if Daniel ever needed me. Love at it's best is both selfless and appreciated. I dedicate this post to brainhell and his wife as a example on what love really is, and as a reflection of the love Christ meant us to feel, if you are a believer. This is the love Christmas is meant to bring out and reflect, I wish this to all people this day.

Xmas post..What love really means: The worst.

Christmas seems to bring out either the worst, or the best in all families. I've seen both this holiday weekend. As for the worst:

Daniel's mother is a very self-absorbed woman. Daniel had a small wreck in the truck last week, where the passenger window was broke. The weather wasn't so bad that we couldn't drive it locally, but to Hazard would have been a bit miserable, even though the weather wasn't as bad as it could have been. She has refused in the past to come visit here, and Daniel has had to be the one to make all the effort in their relationship. After 4 days of making excuses for not visiting ( my mom is here a lot, even though she lives 2 1/2 hours away), as of today Daniel has had enough of her. He told his mother today to never call again, he was tired of her loving him only when it was convenient to her. I cried when I was in the other room as I listened to the conversation, because as much as I want to mother his pain away, there is only one woman who can do that, and she refuses.

THE DUH FACTOR..AN ONGOING SERIES

"WASHINGTON (Reuters) - U.S. growers produce nearly $35 billion worth of marijuana annually, making the illegal drug the country's largest cash crop, bigger than corn and wheat combined, an advocate of medical marijuana use said in a study released on Monday. "

It took a national study to figure this out? And, big surprise, here are the top 5 grower states: California, Tennessee, Kentucky, Hawaii and Washington. Any person on the damn street, let alone people like my self who live in one of those states , could have told the policy makers this. My own mother sold pot to keep us clothed and fed when we were only getting a 400$/month welfare check growing up. Pot revenue is feeding a lot of people in Appalachia. If there was any other sort of industry here besides coal, this wouldn't be a necessity. At at $1,606 per pound for the grower, can you blame anybody for having some cannabis amongst the tomatoes and corn in the garden?

Running a Swing club

Ive been doing a bit of research about the running of on-site Swing clubs recently. As many people as we have in this area that swing, it would be the coolest to have an on site establishment here in Pikeville. The closest to here would be Knoxville, Columbus, or Lexington. West Virginia has no on-site premises. There are a few very private resorts, but you have to know someone to get there, and they tend to be expensive. A small place with a social room and a few playrooms, a jacuzzi room, a locker room/shower room would be ideal. maybe a BYOB area with mixers, and maybe lite finger food. it would only be open on weekends. its a cool dream.

Not much going on...

As you might have noticed, I haven't been posting much lately. There has not been much happening in my world. It is winter, which means most of my time is fighting off illness. The fibro weakens my immune system, so the winters are a battle of one virus after another. The past 3 weeks has consisted of: 24 hr flu, laryngitis, and perpetual cough, and off and on low grade fever. There is no use going to the doctor, since there is nothing that can be done for viruses other than support stuff (liquids, rest, etc.), and I really don't need exposed to new stuff. We have a Rockers party New Years Eve weekend, and that plus holiday visiting will be the extent of my social life this month. I will be on the couch mostly.

recipe for my life

From Merriam-Webster Dictionary (http://www.m-w.com):

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

Function: noun: a disorder of unknown cause that is characterized by persistent profound fatigue usually accompanied by other symptoms (as headache and tender lymph nodes) unrelated to any preexisting medical condition -- abbreviation CFS

Fibromyalgia
Pronunciation: "fI-"brO-"mI-'al-j(E)&Function: noun
Etymology: New Latin: any of a group of rheumatic disorders affecting soft tissues and characterized by pain, tenderness, and stiffness of muscles and associated connective tissue structures

Take a heaping helping of Fibromyalgia and CFS, mix liberally with isolation and boredom, and fold in loneliness and frustration. Let stew for 5 days a week, every week. Watch the pot, it easily boils over.

Tye dyed hair

I started this hair adventure with the purest and best of intentions: I didn't want to wear a hot wig to Rockers this year. So, in my foolish innocence, I dyed it black, thinking it would be easy to fix......

I started last week by putting a red dye on the top to make it two toned. The reality was red roots and the rest still black. So, I pondered this problem this weekend and during that time I was in Wal-Mart in the hair color isles, and saw the bleaching kits. Once again, in a moment of innocence (ignorance/stupidity), i bought it and put it in last night. The black came out, but what I was left with probably has never been seen in nature before this moment.

My roots are a lovely shade of strawberry blond. From about an inch from my scalp to about 4 inches from the ends its a gorgeous copper-orange...The ends are a dark copper. My hair has a nice, waterfall effect going on. The fact of the matter is I wanted it different ...and now it is. Daniel hasn't seen it yet but thought the whole thing was hysterical.

The world's oldest and fattest Suicide Girl

The title is a statement about what I seem to be turning into. As of tonight, I will be stripping my hair down to platinum blond so i can eventually get it back to red. I have had 3 hair colors in as many months. I have gotten the overwhelming urge to get a nose ring. My tastes in clothes are getting a bit emo/punk/goth in nature. For some reason, my mind is not accepting old wives tale about 35 year olds supposing to be dowdy and respectable. I actually would love to do a goth photo shoot with fake tats and piercings and actually submit my pic to Suicide Girls.

What, for the love of Pete, is happening to me? Its like I'm turning into the teenager I wanted to be but couldn't because 1) it was the late 80's when I was a teen and goths didn't exist yet, and 2) I grew up between "bumfuckegypt" and "Boy-you-have-a-purdy-mouth" area of Appalachia. My husband doesn't seem to be minding this change, he LOVES goth chicks. To put it a better way, I feel like I'm in the middle of a transformation pattern I haven't seen in a decade. Z the swinging caterpillar is mutation into he inner Goth chick. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised. Look what Ive been since adulthood, and some of these I still am:

wife twice

sister

caregiver

college student

Hotel employee

witch

poet

Painter

Escort (prostitute)

SCAdian (member of the Society for creative Anachronism)

ultra liberal pinko commie girl

world traveller

Swinger

gypsy

fibromyalgia sufferer

runner

belly dancer

Speaker of gutteral german

Friend

Would middle aged goth chick be so out of place? Please feel free to post comments.

The Goddess has heard Our Prayers!!!

The Democrats have handily taken back the House of Representatives, and damn near have the Senate back. Donald "Militarily, I don't know my ass from my elbows" Rumsfeld finally saw the writing on the wall and resigned. Our Fucktard president will have a very bad final few years in office. So, The Goddess is in her Heaven and things are almost right with the world!!

Xmas shopping for the future

I don't know if I've mentioned it before but I'm an eBay freak. I have been known to spend several hours at a time lurking on eBay looking for my version of the holy grail. Its the truest version of Capitalism; you put it to market, people bid on it, highest bidder wins...simple. EBay also lets us who don't compete feel like we are on the gridiron because we get awfully down and dirty in the bidding war side of the chase. There is NOTHING that pisses me off more than someone stealing my bid at the last minute. Conversely, there is nothing more satisfying than getting the product at the last instant. The only place I can think of that has a more varied amount of sheer stuff is a back alley marketplace in Bangkok somewhere. Short of illicit drugs and human flesh, you can get anything on EBay.

It was Daniel's brilliant idea to do all of the Xmas shopping on ebay, and get it over with early this year. We budgeted 400$, put the money in the bank Friday, and only have one more gift to get with 61$ left on the budget as of today Tuesday. Daniel was never into eBay that much until this weekend, where I got to see the shopping animal come out. As we fought to get our bids in last minute, and win a bidding war, his nostrils flaring, his pupils dilating, the hunter came out in my otherwise mild mannered husband. It was rather amusing to watch. I can't get him to watch football or NASCAR with me, but the sportsman came out that day.

The good news about all this is that firstly, Daniel now understands my attraction to EBay. Secondly, we have money left over to get stuff for us. Lastly, the only time I have to be in Wal-Mart during the Xmas insanity is on the less crowded grocery section. A win-win-win situation!!!

Samhain 2006

This years' Samhain was a quiet, alone affair. I did my ceremony thanking The Mother for Her gifts of life, love, and sanity. I only asked for one thing for the coming year: creativity. I need to create something worthwhile. I also asked the Mother to bless the families of all who had died this year, and said hello to John . I feel that Samhain is a time to reconnect with my faith as the wheel of the year starts anew. Blessed Be!

First couple Picture

My mother, in her wisdom, decided to have family pictures taken at 11AM, AFTER a Rockers Party the night before. This is us after about 2 hours of sleep. I don't think it turned out too badly. It was the first time the whole family got to take pics together, including the new sons-in-law. At least the weather was good and we ate afterwards.

LYRICS ALERT!!! Sweet Transvestite

Sweet Transvestite

Frank:

How d'you do, I

See you've met my

Faithful handyman.

He's just a little brought down

Because when you knocked

He thought you were the candy man.

Don't get strung up by the way I look.

Don't judge a book by its cover.

I'm not much of a man by the light of day

But by night I'm one hell of a lover.

I'm just a sweet transvestite

From Transexual, Transylvania.

Let me show you around

Maybe play you a sound.

You look like you're both pretty groovy.

Or if you want something visual

That's not too abysmal,

We could take in an old Steve Reeves movie.

Brad:

I'm glad we caught you at home,

Could we use your phone?

We're both in a bit of a hurry.

Janet:

Right.

Brad:

We'll just say where we are,

Then go back to the car.

We don't want to be any worry.

Frank:

Well you got caught with a flat, well, how `bout that?Well, babies, don't you panic.

By the light of the night it'll all seem alright.

I'll get you a satanic mechanic.

I'm just a sweet transvestite

From Transexual, Transylvania.

Why don't you stay for the night?

Riff Raff:

Night!!

Or maybe a bite?

Columbia:

Bite!!

I could show you my favourite obsession.

I've been making a man

With blond hair and a tan

And he's good for relieving my... ...tension

I'm just a sweet transvestite

From Transexual, Transylvania,

ha ha,

HEY, HEY!

I'm just a sweet transvestite. (Sweet transvestite)

From Transexual, Transylvania.

So - come up to the lab,

And see what's on the slab.

I see you shiver with antici - (4 seconds) - pation.

But maybe the rain

Isn't really to blame.

So I'll remove the cause. (chuckles)

But not the symptom.

he who completes me

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present the man I have been driving crazy, and was crazy enough to marry me. I dont think Ive ever loved someone this much EVER. I miss him terribly, and miss being with him day to day. I love you baby.

Rede Of The Wiccae

Because Samhain is once again upon us, I have decided to give a sorta free education to those who have no clue about my faith, and, a refresher course for those who do. The first is the Rede of the Wiccae, whis is one of the tenets of Wicca, though it really can't be traced before Gerald Gardner in 1953 ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wiccan_Rede). This version comes from, in it's entirety, from The Wiccan Rede Project ( http://web.archive.org/web/20040415043123/www.draknetfree.com/sheathomas/ )


Rede Of The Wiccae
(Being Knowne As The Counsel Of The Wise Ones)
Submitted By Lady Gwen Thompson & Adriana Porter
First Published In Green Egg MagazineVol. III. No. 69 (Ostara 1975)
{definitions by the blogger}



Bide the Wiccan Laws ye must
In Perfect Love and Perfect Trust.
Live an’ let live - Fairly take an’ fairly give.
Cast the Circle thrice about To keep all evil spirits out.
To bind the spell every time - Let the spell be spake in rhyme.
Soft of eye an’ light of touch - Speak little, listen much.
Deosil {clockwise} go by the waxing Moon - Sing and dance the Wiccan rune.
Widdershins {counter clockwise} go when the Moon doth wane,
An’ the Werewolf howls by the dread Wolfsbane {Poisonous Medicinal Herb}.
When the Lady’s Moon is new, Kiss thy hand to Her times two.
When the Moon rides at Her peak Then your heart’s desire seek.
Heed the Northwind’s mighty gale - Lock the door and drop the sail.
When the wind comes from the South, Love will kiss thee on the mouth. When the wind blows from the East, Expect the new and set the feast. When the West wind blows o’er thee, Departed spirits restless be.
Nine woods {bonfire} in the Cauldron go - Burn them quick an’ burn them slow.
Elder be ye Lady’s tree - Burn it not or cursed ye’ll be.
When the Wheel begins to turn - Let the Beltane {May 1st} fires burn.
When the Wheel has turned a Yule {Dec. 22nd}, Light the Log an’ let Pan rule.
Heed ye flower bush an’ tree - By the Lady Blessèd Be.
Where the rippling waters go Cast a stone an’ truth ye’ll know.
When ye have need, Hearken not to others greed.
With the fool no season spend Or be counted as his friend.
Merry meet an’ merry part - Bright the cheeks an’ warm the heart.
Mind the Threefold Law ye should - Three times bad an’ three times good. When misfortune is enow, Wear the Blue Star {pentacle} on thy brow.
True in love ever be Unless thy lover’s false to thee.
Eight words ye Wiccan Rede fulfill - An’ it harm none, Do what ye will.

My Painting Hero--Duane Keiser

Duane Keiser has probably found the best marketing angle in art next to Thomas Kinkade. He is the proprietor of A Painting A Day (http://duanekeiser.blogspot.com/), an art site where he promotes and sells his card paintings he does about once a day now. I mean post card in the literal sense, 3 1/2 by 5 inch paintings and sometimes smaller. They are technically brilliant, photo realistic, and sell on eBay from no less than $100, and most times that I have seen, up to $500 to $750. He has a devoted following in the art world, and the sky seems to be the limit. He included a demo from YouTube, and I was floored on how damn easy he made it look. The painting is entitled "Candy Apple" ans ended up selling for $510 on Ebay. To see the demo, here is the link ; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rB-Qj3reFkY
This guy is my personal hero!

No more worries about oil paint...for another month

Well after 7 days of no period, we finally got a 4$ pregnancy test (negative). I started my period later in the day, yesterday. For the past week I haven't touched my oil paints, because I was worried about using turpenoid, and I don't have enough water soluble oils to do the job. Today I feel sick and crampy (sick from this weekend, apparently Daniel and I both caught a bug from the relations), and overly sensitive-cranky, like most menstruating women tend to be. I'm pissed off and relieved, at the same time, I'm not pregnant, which annoys the fuck out of me. I miss Daniel terribly, and he's only been gone not more than an hour. I'm unreasonably put out that Daniel told the new playmate she could sleep over most of the week if she wanted to. I KNOW nothing serious was meant by it, but hormonal women are rarely rational. We also didn't get to spend a lot of time together this weekend for one reason or another. So I'm just kinda feeling miserable, lonely, and grumbling to myself. Thanks for listening.

Desperately Seeking Somebody

I have actually started looking for a playmate for during the week, although its no better than half-assed. I'm just not feeling it. I don't see usefulness of paying $30 for a month of AdultFriendFinder, because they only people on there just want to fuck. That just leaves me cold. I want someone more to sit there and talk to me, spend time with me. I want someone to hang out with and watch crazy TV or watch me paint or want to go to artsy places. It doesn't even have to be more than 2 days a week. If we end up in the sack, all well and good, but I need a intellectual connection first and foremost.

If I don't end up finding someone, Daniel will feel terrible about having a play partner in WV. I don't want him to feel that way. He deserves companionship as much as I do. HE works to pay the bills so I can stay home, He's the one who rarely has free time. I think he's more deserving than I am. I don't contribute financially to this home-he does. Not that there is no value to what I do; I just don't feel that valuable. Daniel has told me that if I don't find someone, he will stop with his play partner and have me stay in the apartment during the week up there, and come home with him on weekends. Yes, I would see him more. But, I love my nest/shell/cocoon. It would be physically hard on me to do that as well. That apartment is kinda cold, and winter is damn near here. I do not want a substitute husband- I have the only husband I will ever want or need. I would like a good friend with benefits occasionally though.

So the best thing I knew to do is update my ad on witchvox.com. That way, I'd be targeting like minds that weren't there just for sex. Let's see how it goes..updates to follow.

preparing to paint..BEWARE!!!

Well I have no excuse not to paint anymore. The house is reasonably organized. Laundry is caught up for the most part, and all I have to do is print some cards and I'm caught up with all chores. I can now concentrate on teaching myself calligraphy, and watercolors. My oils will be out too. I need a new set of water soluble oils. I really have no urge to work with turpenoid since I'm trying to get pregnant. When I actually get something that's worth being posted, Ill show it to you. If I get super ambitious, Ill do another blog just for my art.. who knows.

The Human Barometer

Today is the first day under 50 degrees F. I could have told you that it was getting colder, since I felt it from the roots of my hair to the ends of my toenails. The fibromyalgia is back for the long winter. The fact that the news is forecasting a mild winter is not a comfort. I will be in some form of discomfort until April, ranging from mild flu-like body aches, all the way to being bedridden with teeth clenching pain I can't move through. I feel like my bones are made of lead, the fatigue is so bad. I have fond memories of exercising this summer, it was wonderful. I have belly dance videos Ill be doing this winter but not every day. It is times like this I miss Key West, LOL. I'm going to be trying new vitamins and such so we will see.

Unexplored world

Daniel and I went to a convention this past weekend for a 12 step program Daniel is a member of (I won't mention the name of it, because it has Anonymous as part of it's name). Daniel has dealt with extreme addictions in his past, and has been clean for 8 years. I have never had an addict in my family, and besides caffeine and Mythbusters, I have really never been addicted to anything personally. It's like trying to walk in someone else's shoes: you really can't. I like to tell myself I'm reasonably smart and well-read, but when dealing with what I have had no contact with in the past, I fell like a dunderhead.

So the whole day Friday, Daniel acted like a caged bear wanting to get their. Yes, he is wonderfully charming most of the time, but when he wants to get somewhere he can get a bit (understatement) cranky. I had to use my zen voice to calm him down a dozen times to keep him from going spastic. Especially in Lexington traffic; we were going down Versailles Rd just as Keeneland was letting out of its first day of the meet. However, I kept him from going into a killing rampage well enough to get us to Bardstown.

The first thing I felt when we got out of the truck was this overwhelming feeling of love and goodwill coming from all in attendance. During the process of the weekend, I don't think I had ever been hugged that much at one time in several years. Total strangers (to me) would come and hug me out of the blue, no matter the race, age or gender. There was an atmosphere of total and unconditional acceptance. All of these people had dealt with addiction, either as a recovering addict or the partner of one. Everyone was an equal to the other. I felt a complete sense of welcome, but also the feeling of being distanced because I could not share their life experience. Most of the spouses or partners of the recovered addicts there had been with them in the trenches of the illness. I had met and married Daniel at the point of being clean for several years. I did my best to be as open and attentive as possible.

Saturday was full of seminars on various topics dealing with addiction and the aspects of the program itself. There was only two I could go to, the -Anon meetings. Once again, I met wonderful people there, but only myself and another person there had met their spouse during the clean time, not the raging addiction. It did help to share my feelings of inadequacy and ignorance on how to handle situations that come up dealing with the addiction. For example, the needle pit scene in Saw II. He freaked, then dealt with it. I freaked because of seeing him freak, and not knowing what to do. Everyone at the meeting was very understanding. Between seminars, I was either cross stitching in the hospitality room, or napping ( since Daniel was so keyed up he didn't sleep at all Friday night, nor most of Saturday night).

Saturday night there was a banquet, a speaker, then an auction/dance. As I did Friday night, I went to bed when I felt the fatigue hit me, and let him alone to roam. I did this because these people were his people. They shared his experiences. It would have been a terrible injustice on my part to make him go to bed and miss this camaraderie. He thought it was very unselfish on my part, I just considered it reasonable. It was also practical, since I was rested enough to get him home on Sunday.

I hope we get to go to another convention in the future. Yes, I love swing parties. However, outings like this I think are more enriching to us both, and we need fun for the body as well as nourishment for the soul.

my gentle husband

Daniel,

I am so very sorry for letting it seem like I lost my faith in you, and our love. It has been a hard week, with fall coming and the pain and fatigue rearing its ugly head. I have worked hard this week to finally hold my end of the housekeeping bargain up. I never want to lose you, and I know I never will. I want you to be satisfied, emotionally and physically. It was wrong for me to believe that you would leave me for anyone else. Will you forgive me for feeling fat, ugly, lonely, horny, and PMSy?

I love you,
Z

The fat, middle aged harpy housewife from Hell

Daniel seems to have found a possible play partner in West Virginia. I have, once again, the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. It feels like a mixture of slight jealousy with a pinch of inner turmoil, and a cup of self esteem issues thrown into the batter. Here is a woman who has the possibility of seeing more of my husband than I do. And, as I stated in the previous post, I have precious little trust of women in general and single ones in particular. I am well aware my baby has needs his hand just can't fulfill, and I don't have a problem with him satisfying them per se. However, there's this hot brunette with a great body who isn't married living in BFE, and here is a man who is sexy, articulate, and sexually skilled with an excellent paying job. Can you say bigger, better deal? If it was a married woman whose husband lets her play separately I wouldn't feel so icky about it.

I trust my husband. Period. I am just feeling like crap because I'm always tired, I look like hell, and I'm terrified of becoming boring to him. Trust me, you can be the sexiest woman in the world, but if you become boring, a man will go looking somewhere else. Being an escort taught me that. The fat, middle aged harpy housewife from Hell (lol say that fast 5 times), she is in the mirror staring back at me, justly or not.

Part of me thinks that maybe its time to find my own play partner. I am damn particular about who I fuck nowadays, also from being an escort. I am afraid I will get so lonely from being away from Daniel that whomever I end up playing with might become a crutch. But, it might just be the thing I need to do so Daniel can have the play partner he needs right now. As long as I have my weekend marriage, it will have to do.

Female Chauvinist

I wrote about this about a year ago, and the subject rears it's ugly head again: why can't I get along with members of my own gender? Why is it that I don't, and can't, have many close female friends? As of right now, I have three: Edie, my sis Sam, and Margaret. I can tell these three anything ( well mostly, Margaret doesn't know I swing), without fear. There is something so catty, so untrustworthy about, many of the women I meet. Not that they are bad people, most are wonderful. There seems to be this feeling of cut throat competition, subversive friendliness, and mind games with many women that I simply cannot understand.

For example: there are several females in our group who don't particularly like each other, which is fine. No one person can be appealing to everyone. But at a recent party where these women happened to be in close proximity to each other, there was an undercurrent of tension, with each of them talking about the other behind their backs. Then, if they did get within talking distance of each other, they made snide remarks about the others within earshot. Why was this necessary? If I don't like some one, I avoid them. If I see them I am courteous and polite, but not snide. We had to put out the proverbial fires from a half dozen incidents from this party about this one talking about that one, this one being upset ant that one because of something that was said, etc. I am so sick of this drama I'm ready to scream!

The interesting thing is there are NO MEN causing these problems. If men don't like you they either tell you, or avoid you. No gossip, no badmouthing. I feel so uncomfortable around most women now that I usually (beside the three women mentioned by name beforehand) avoid having close relationships with women. I have no idea where this feeling of self protection came from. I know my sister and I were pitted against each other like gladiators in high school for fun by family members. The one person I did trust in my formative years was an uncle (thanks Ivan). I don't relate to women well, I don't feel the need to have what other women covet. I got yelled at by Daniel because I had 2 pairs of jeans for the fall, and didn't really have the urge or feel the need to have more clothes. I have 5 pairs of shoes, and besides the need for a pair of Doc Martens for winter, I really couldn't care less about having more. I wear makeup when needful, but not every time I exit the apartment. I'm not jealous of other women, nor do I feel threatened by them. I feel mostly indifferent at best, ambivalent at worst. I sometimes feel like an outcast as a swinger because I am not bi. I have had a few bi experiences, but really didn't enjoy them as much as sex with a man.

Yes, I love men. I love the way they think. I understand that love and sex are two different things, and sex is the primary force that drives our species. I don't feel like i need a man to survive, actually, I have done pretty well on my own. I do appreciate beyond words that I have a husband who wants me to stay home, so I can work on things I have always wanted to do and never had the time. I have always had more male friends, even since grade school. I don't know how to explain it I just feel more of an affinity for the male psyche.

WTF?

I woke up yesterday thinking, in my cynical way, that I had seen just about everything human nature could throw up on society. Then, I opened up Yahoo and see the headline," Shooter goes on rampage in Amish school!"

I had to blink a few times to make sure I was seeing the words right. A shooting...at an AMISH SCHOOL!!! So I click on the link and read the story, then I turn the TV on and watch the news conference with Daniel, stunned. I'm thinking, Let me get this straight: a guy comes home from work, gets his own kids off to school, decides he's suicidal and wants to take a few with him, preferably young girls, and hits the nearest school, which happens to be an Amish school, guaranteed to have no phone or security. Then, shoots 9 of them, killing 3 instantly and himself. Three die later.

I would like to state first that it is horrible and indefensible that any child should die this way. I have a niece that is the age range these girls were (9 years old) . The fact that it's an Amish school makes it that much more horrible, because of their belief system that try to keep them away from the ills of modern society . This would be the LAST place you would figure a situation like this would happen. Can you imagine parents, trying to get to their children in hospitals states away, taking forever to get there because they morally can't fly, and barely let themselves be in cars? Then see their children in modern hospitals, with modern life support? Not only are they about to lose children, but the very fabric of their lives, their society, is rent asunder by one selfish motherfucker with guns?

This kind of nightmare is the worst kind of violation. To me, this proves that no place is safe, no children are safe. Now I know that safety is relative, and the fact that we are not in control of anything in our lives is the the only thing we can be absolutely sure of. I have a great deal of respect for the Amish culture. They only want to be left alone to practice their faith, raise their children, and live in peace. Like any of us. it will take them a very long time to recover from this. I pray to my goddess that it happens quickly.

Crossing a huge hurdle.

There comes a time in every woman's life when she is able to overcome a past sexual trauma, hopefully with the help of a loving man. I experienced such a case of sexual healing a few weekend's ago, with Daniel's loving, generous help. As my long suffering readers might recall, I was anally sexually assaulted in January, 2005, by an ex-boyfriend. Since, that part of my sexuality has been shut down. But then I found a wonderful, caring man I could trust with anything. A few months ago I decided enough was enough. I was tired of withholding a part of me from my husband, so we decided to act.

We started with toys, to gradually get me used to having that area touched and manipulated again. In these little play sessions Daniel was tender, slow and loving, and there always seemed to be a lot of laughter. Finally, a few weekends ago, I was so turned on I told him to slowly go for it...and he did. It was the hottest sexual experience I have had in a life full of sexual experiences. After we finished we held each other , laughed and talked well into the morning. It was magical.

I am grateful for Daniel's loving patience and forbearance during my healing process..Thank you Baby.

Coffee, croussant, and my uncle.

I am sitting here rested after getting up at 7am, instead of getting ready for bed. My parents made a rare 2 night stay to go see my uncle in Kingsport, TN, for quintuple bypass surgery. Bud has been one of the few stationary male members of my family; he and my maternal aunt Marilyn have been married since 1967. It was so hard to watch Marilyn yesterday, seeing her worry beside the bed of a husband she has had 39 years. I have sat that watch myself, and it hurt to watch. I couldn't even bring myself to go into ICU to see him with his ventilator and wires everywhere. Too many bad memories.

More bad memories to ponder on the drive home to Pikeville. My mother and I discussed her parenting skills, or lack of them ( in her opinion!!!). What had brought up the conversation was watching my cousin Dawn with her two little boys, ages 3 and 18 months. The boys were tired, hungry, cranky, whiny, and both threw a fit at the end of the evening. Dawn, who is also 7 months pregnant with her third boy, showed stress but never lost her composure. The discussion in the car on the way home went from me doubting my ability to be a parent to 3 children under the age of 5, to my mother's parenting skills. She had so many regrets, and she shouldn't have. It was not her fault my dad was a low life scum who wasn't man enough to help raise the children he fathered. She did what any single mother does: she did the best she could with what she had. Yes my sister and I have issues from childhood, but they are issues she in no way made worse from her parenting. She raised 2 daughters who got really good grades (my sister was 3rd in her class, I was in the top 10%), didn't get pregnant, and went on to live decent lives. You can't do better as a parent that turn out functional members of society. I hope and pray when and if my time comes to carry on the gene pool I can do as well.

As for my uncle, at 8am this morning, had been removed from the respirator, has sat up, and has done a short walk. His prognosis is excellent..Thank the Goddess.

Happy Birthday Sis

Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday dear Samantha,( the lil sis that strangers think is the older of us 2 hehe)
Happy Birthday to you!!!!!

Samantha is 33 today. You could not find two sisters more different in the world than us. She is a cost accountant for a big auto parts company. I am a housewife-artist-free spirit.
We share a set of parents, upbringing, and looks, and that's about it. It took us a long time to develop a friendship, since our family got a great deal of sadistic glee out of pitting us against each other in high school. After we both moved away from home, we were able to work on a friendship.

I can tell you the exact day we became friends on top of being sisters. Sam picked me up at Cincinnati airport in 1998, for our aunt's funeral. We drove 3 hours to get from Cincy to Inez, and in that time we finally got over all the crap from childhood and bonded. We talked about our childhoods, the abuse, the way we dealt with it differently (I withdrew, she acted out). We talked about our marriages and children and our aunt. I will never forget that drive.

An idea whos Time has come..

Madrid bans too-thin models from catwalk --AFP
"MADRID (AFP) - Excessively skinny fashion models will be barred from a major Madrid fashion show later this month for fear they could send the wrong message to young
Spanish girls, local media reported.

Madrid's regional government, which is co-financing the Pasarela Cibeles, has vetoed around a third of the models who took part in last year's show because they weigh too little.

The authorities collaborated with a Spanish health organisation to come up with a minimum body mass -- a height-weight ratio -- of 18 for the models.

Spanish daily ABC said it was the first time such restrictions had been imposed on a fashion show, although a recent wedding dress exhibition in Barcelona banned fashion models who took a dress size below 38 (British size 10, US size eight).

Several models at last year's show provoked a row when they claimed their careers would be under threat if they put on weight.

Organisers said they wanted to "help ensure public opinion does not associate fashion, and fashion shows in particular, with an increase in anorexia, a disease which, along with bulimia, is considered ... as a mental and behavioural problem'.

This is refreshing. I LOATHE the fashion industry. Yes I like cool clothes and shoes as much as the next woman. Also, I am realistic about my size. I have never been below a size 14 in my adult life, and never think I will. Yet, every fucking fashion magazine I pick up has women at least a size 4 (and that's generous) and below between its cover. I can't relate to these women, and the designers do not make haute couture or pret a porte in my size. So even if I could afford the damn clothes, I couldn't wear them. The fact that at least one of the major fashion shows is cracking down is a breath of fresh air. I just wonder where they found models big enough.

4 years...Letter to a dead man

Hello Honey,
You want to know something funny? I almost forgot this anniversary of your death. I was cleaning house, dealing with new meds, and getting ready to spend the weekend at the new in-laws, and it dawned on me. This past year I remarried, as you told me to. Daniel is an incredible man. You would like him, after being jealous, lol. I haven't talked to lil' John and Martha for over a year, or seen the kids. Sam and Charles and Rhea are thriving, despite Charles' health problems. I invited your brothers and sisters to the wedding, but didn't expect them to come. It would have been painful for them, but I thought it was the right thing to do. I am still cross stitching, and slowly planning to start painting again. I still have the easel you bought me for Yule. We are trying to have a baby, Daniel and I, and I don't know what you would think about that. we tried to have one, I know, but something just didn't connect. Intercede to the Goddess for me, John, so I can have a healthy baby, ok?
I love you always,
Zezrie

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"