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.