Dec 30, 2010

Just wow.

I was fed love on a plate
covered in mushrooms and bacon
and tattoos and tenderness.

Dec 22, 2010

Love Letter

To Whom it May Concern,

You opened my chest and ripped out my heart, if you look you'll find it's in your grasp, and it's still beating. You devoured my heart and when you finished snacking on my love, you dove into my brain.

I am now a heartless zombie.

A heartless zombie that loves you.

With all my love,

Dec 14, 2010

Love is strange

I've never felt the kind of love that doesn't need a damn thing but itself to exist. I just need to know that he loves me and I love him and that is enough. More than that though, I don't even need to know that he loves me in order to love him. I love him whether he loves me back or not.

I've never taken anything this slow. I've never had this much patience for anything. Shit, I get annoyed at the movies when there are too many previews because I want to get to the movie! I hate standing in line. Being on the phone makes me want to stab myself in the vag with a steak-knife. I truly have no patience, for anything but him.

I always believed that there was someone out there who would understand every little weirdness about me. I believed that there was someone who only I'd be able to figure out. Lo and behold, the Universe delivers when the time is right.

He is my muse. He is my inspiration. He is my need to be a better person. He is the reason I don't want to do anything unhealthy anymore. He is the smile in the morning when the sun hits my face. He is my smile at night when my head hits the pillow. He is my courage and my good luck charm. He is my heart.

I hope I give him a quarter of what he gives me.

I don't think anyone but the two of us understand it. Although our friend Charlie believes that the two of us together is the only thing that makes sense. Charlie's a genius. :)

Dec 5, 2010

It's been a while...


Where to begin? There is so much juicy and interesting crap to report... I guess I'll just jump in with both feet.

Months ago I began alluding to a crush I had on someone. Later, I wrote about how that crush became like. I wrote about how I was not in love with this person. Who was I kidding? :) Well, in one big ball of panic - through uncontrollable shakes - with my head hung down as though I were prostrating myself... I admitted how I felt to him. The beautiful thing is - a poem I wrote a long, long time ago for courage came true. It's called "One Truth".

I truly have never known anyone who made me feel normal. Around him, I don't feel like a spastic shit-show. I know with every cell in my body that he's "the one". He's the one that I'll be sitting in a rocking chair next to reminiscing on our youth.

*I figured I'd get the best news out of the way first.

About a month ago, I started directing for the NBC CHICAGO NON-STOP Channel. I direct the Roe and Roeper show now for 4 hours straight on any given day. The thing is, it's been a riot and I've learned a lot about myself. Apparently, I have a lot of Republican leanings. I'm not saying I'm going to one of those Tea Party things, but I'm pretty sure I'm no longer a blind follower of the Democratic party. I'm not jumping to the Republican side either - but the blindfold is off - education and understanding of those in political office is key. I implore anyone who reads this blog, educate yourself on the facts and judge every official that you elect on their history and record, not just on whether the avatar of their political party is an Ass or an Elephant. Open your eyes, vote with your heart.

*Here comes some more GOOD news. I'm not sure what that last news was exactly.

I lost 50lbs. May 10, 2010 I quit drinking. I started working out every day and have increased the length of time of this workout from 30 minutes a day, to 2 hours. I can run without shortness of breath. I look like I did when I was 18, except for little crow's feet that appear when I smile. I went from a size 22 to a size 14 in 7 months. I'm still losing weight. I think I'm comfortable right now at this size though.

*Here comes some scary news. Sorry.

Something is going on with my body that I'm not quite sure of. I'll say this. Please pray for me, focus your prayers on my health and please don't give any power to the illness.

Lisa is the picture of health. <--- Repeat like a mantra.

Do NOT think this though: "Please let Lisa feel better." You see, the first one is an affirmation, it moves mountains in the universe to become true. The second one, focuses on the fact that I don't feel well and is not an affirmation at all.


*Take it and go*

Aug 2, 2010


There is weirdness in the air and I don't know why. It's like in a horror movie when someone starts walking down a hallway that they shouldn't be walking down - and they end up dying... Well, it's not that drastic, but it does have the eerie creeping hairs on the back of your neck feel to it. It's like someone is watching me even though there is no one there.

I think several hours of video games is the only thing that is going to make the feeling go away.


Jul 10, 2010

Sometimes the muse changes...

So I have decided that the title to this blog entry will mirror the titles of the paintings that make up my "Sometimes they come from space" collection of paintings. Birthing a show in which I had a concept that was clear and a time frame that was just as clear took a LOT out of me. More than I ever thought possible, actually.

I often don't paint for months at a time because I have nothing to say. In the month of June, I guess I had TONS to say and I gave birth to artwork like mothers push babies out of their birth canals. It was amazing and beautiful, yet painful and exhausting. I have ideas that I'd like to get out on canvas and when I pick up the paintbrush to go for it... I physically can't paint.

I turn on the same music I spent a month painting to, and instead of wanting to paint, I suddenly want to sing. I suddenly want to slack off and waste hours playing video games. I suddenly realize - I think I'm depressed. Is it possible to have post-partum depression even if you didn't give birth to a physical being? Granted, I think I gave birth to about 50 beings last month - so I guess it's possible. I'm just in a funk.

This too, shall pass - as they say.

Jul 1, 2010

Jun 18, 2010

Thought of the Day!

If two people share the same thought at the same time, the space between them disappears.

Enough using other people's words.

So, I've been on this KT Tunstall kick because of the painting. When I paint, I must listen to something that doesn't make me want to do anything else... like dance or sing. While I have sung KT at Karaoke, listening to her doesn't make me want to sing... ever. Something about the song Universe and You though that rings with me like a great big brass bell.

Listening to that song in particular while painting puts me in this place mentally.

"I can feel everything you do, hear everything you say - even when you're miles away - because I am me, the universe, and you."

I get to this place where everything is calm and serene and just makes sense. I am one with the Universe because I am the Universe. I am made of the stuff of stars. Painting aliens and alien landscapes when you are one with the Universe just makes sense. That song does that for me.

The thing is, I like female vocalists. Oddly, I like at least three vocalists that sound relatively similar - and lyrically similar too. Toby Lightman, KT Tunstall, and Jenny Owen Youngs - I don't even know the freaking genre... I guess it's "Rock" but it's kinda not. More blue-eyed soul/adult contemporary? Who knows, who cares.

It's basically music that half of my friend-base would crucify me for listening to if they knew, the other half might dig it though, I am really not sure.

Thing is, I like an assload of music. From Kings X to Zappa... Britney to Christina... Bach to Front (haha). So don't judge me for my lyrical choices in this blog. Know that I'm a poet and therefore poetry inspires me.

Suck it if you don't like it.

If I had the balls I'd sing this to him...

I look up and the hills seem far away
But they still say more than you
And on my back I see these clouds above
But they still love me more than you.

And I know I don't have to wait for words
I can walk away and listen to the birds
Listen to the birds

They don't say the things I want to hear
They don't change. They stay the same, when I'm near.

I would dearly love to run away from your shadow for just one day
I would dearly love to run away from your shadow for just one day

I don't ever want to steal your time
Because you seem fine while I feel blue
I don't want to say the things I do
because I know I feel it more than you

And I know I don't have to wait for words
I could walk away and listen to the birds
Listen to the birds
'Cause they don't say the things I wanna hear
They don't change
They stay the same when I'm near

And I would dearly love to run away
From your shadow for just one day
I would dearly love to run away
From your shadow for just one day

And I know I don't have to wait for you
I could turn around and find somebody new
Find somebody new yeah
Someone who says the things I need to hear
Doesn't change someone who stays the same
When I'm near.

But I would dearly love to run away
From your shadow for just one day.

Jun 11, 2010

Today's Lyrics...Through the Dark by KT Tunstall

As I walk away I look over my shoulder to see what I'm leaving behind
Pieces of puzzles and wishes on eyelashes failed.
Oh, oh
How do I show all the love inside my heart?
This is all new and I'm feeling my way through the dark.

And I used to talk with honest conviction of how I predicted my world
I'm going to leave it stargazers tell me what your telescope says
Oh, oh, what is in store for me now? It's coming apart
I know that it's true as I'm feeling my way through the dark

Trying to find a light on somewhere
Trying to find a light on somewhere

I'm finding I'm falling in love with the dark over me.

Oh, oh what do I know I don't care
Where I start
For my troubles are few as I'm feeling my way through the dark
Feeling my way through the dark...

Jun 7, 2010

Giving Up

Sometimes you see the writing on the wall and have to read it.
Sometimes you ignore the writing and the wall and get a face full of bricks.
Sometimes you stare at the wall long enough and faces emerge
Sometimes the wall tumbles down and you're left staring at the rubble.

Sometimes you can climb the wall.

I'm giving it up entirely.
I'm drawing graffiti on it and hoping that whatever might be beyond the wall will climb it and find me. Otherwise... whatever might be beyond it can enjoy staring at the other side of the wall for eternity.

I'm done.

May 31, 2010


Tentative and frightened
Hands waving wildly before me
Don't want to hit a wall
Walking in the dark.

The air is cold and dank
The fetid smell of anxiety permeates
Sliding feet along the floor
Don't want to trip
Walking in the dark.

Looking for a hand
To hold and touch your soul
To find my light
Don't want to be alone
Walking in the dark.

The walk is nothing but faith.
No need to take leaps.
Eyes closed
Dropping my arms to my sides
I whisper your name
Yet hear no response
I've lost you
Somewhere out here
Walking in the dark.

May 27, 2010

I can't stop smiling.

Last night something incredible happened. Well, more than incredible, amazing. I can't stop smiling. Where do I begin?

A while back, and I think I blogged about that too, my friend asked me to paint something and get out of my comfort zone for it. Anyone who has seen my paintings knows that I opt for florals and abstracts and rarely, if ever, stray from that. I use color in awesome ways but don't stray from style, usually.

I've always been enamored with space. I've always read about nebula, galaxies, the stars, the planets, and aliens. It's always been something that's with me. I've had some experiences that don't belong in this post, but let's just say - I know we aren't the only accident of sentient life in the universe.

So, I started painting nebulas. Using intense colors and making images of gas clouds and stars and skies and lands - nothing you'd see on Earth really - just color washes, what sunsets might look like in another atmosphere, skyscapes. This was not the part that got out of my comfort zone. For a couple weeks, I've had this color wash nebula backgrounds hung in various places in my house so that I could stare at them and understand the direction I need to take them artistically.

Last night, I took one down off the wall and understood that there needed to be a person looking out from inside the gas clouds. And I drew and painted him on the canvas. The thing is, I want to weep for how beautiful he turned out. I literally stared into his face for 45 minutes with the biggest smile I've ever had. And then - I took a blank canvas and made a woman.
She's equally beautiful, though completely different than the man. Thing is, the man emerged from the painting. The woman, she emerged from nothing. I'm still completely floored by how the whole thing went down because both paintings were done in less than an hour a piece.

I woke up smiling and can't get the smile off of my face today - not that I want to. I woke up feeling enlightened and energized and just beyond words. The me I set out to find, I found - with the swoop of a paintbrush and the sound of KT Tunstall playing in the living room. I was in a zone last night and from that zone I reemerged like a butterfly from her cocoon.

Today is an amazing day. If I could only stop staring at my paintings.

May 20, 2010

All things just keep getting better.

Sometimes life is just like a bowl of whipping cream. The bowl has been chilled, there is sugar and a hint of vanilla added, and life starts a whippin'. Next thing you know you're left with this big fluffy white cloud of awesome that tastes amazing. That's what my life is right now. Things are falling into place slowly but surely and I really don't know what to make of it.

I love that I have patience. I love that I can just chill and relax and go with the flow without worrying about the future or where things are going. Who am I kidding? I worry, but I still chill. I'm not into rushing things or jumping the gun, I just sit back and watch life blend and mix and whip, and then I savor.

I need a vacation soonish, however I can't go anywhere until this show is handled in July, then my baby brother is talking about coming for a visit - so we'll have to see about when we can leave. I might go to Hawaii with a friend - just because - hey, it's Hawaii. Who knows, things are happening swiftly and awesomely for me. I shall ride the wave - covered in whipped cream.

May 13, 2010


Sometimes I can sit down and meditate for 12 seconds and suddenly my hearing is amplified by trillions and I can hear everything. I can hear the trees breathing and sighing. I can hear the birds chirping and understand what the tweets are. I can hear everything. If I get to 30 seconds I can see it all too.

Lately, and I don't know if it's because I'm sick, or something more nefarious but I can't get there. I once heard that meditation is next to impossible when you are falling in love. I guess your brain and soul are preoccupied with the "falling" part and the "in love" part. Because everything is preoccupied complete focus and control is impossible or near next to. But the thing is, I'm not falling in love, at least not that I'm aware internally. Maybe I am, I mean it is possible. The thing is sometimes I feel like I am. Sometimes, due to nothing I can explain, tiny cocktail daggers stab me in the chest. Sometimes they are coated in sweetness, like someone ate a cherry off of one before launching it. Sometimes they are covered in salt and they sting, Olives may have been the snack. Either way when I feel this ping in my chest I shake it off. I see who I'm with and where I am and realize that my heart is having a really bad idea. Why? Because as amazing as it could be, it's scary and confusing. As much as my soul knows it's right, my brain thinks differently. I can only imagine the depths of the awkward. I made this decision months ago. I consciously decided that even daydreaming about things being different was stupid. I let it go. However every now and then it crawls right back in, and as much as I shake it off it's there. I really don't know what that means. But as for falling? I fell, and I've been crawling out of the hole for months now. I'm no longer falling, so why is it still so impossible to meditate?

So here I am in this confusion, and because of it meditation is impossible. Getting closer to the Universe is increasingly difficult. Opening my soul to the ether is not inconceivable, but it is laborious. Normally it takes 12 seconds. Lately it's been taking 30 minutes.

Anyone got a rope?

May 10, 2010


Everyone has a vice. Those super-juiced workout types who eat grass and tofu and do yoga every day - they have vices too -albeit healthier ones than the rest of us. Some of us adopt less than healthy vices such as smoking, drinking, drugs. Others of us opt for something less obvious, shopping, eating, sex. Then there are those whose vice is the high they get from running, or the feeling they feel after a good long workout. Then there are the deviants... those whose vices include the rush they feel from stealing, from abusing someone, or other such nonsense. Well, it's nonsense to me. To them, they get a high from it.

Recently, I set out on some sort of search for myself. I found myself but then I adopted a less than healthy connection to a vice. You see, this wasn't my vice - this wasn't my addiction. It all started when I got my heart broken last summer. It wasn't a horrible heart break in the slightest. As a matter of fact, I've never been more glad that something happened to me. I was seeing this guy for a while and he broke up with me in a fairly harsh way - in the middle of my day - with no explanation whatsoever. The details are unimportant, it's the broken heart that's the important thing.

I felt nauseous, disgusted, angry, and hurt. I left where I was, in the middle of what I was doing. I was on my way home and I stopped at my local tavern. It was 3 in the afternoon and I walked up to the bar and said, "Some D-Bag broke my heart, make me a drink." Now, I was never the person to drown my problems in ethanol. Drinking was purely recreational fun. If I was out dancing with my friends I'd have some drinks... if I had been invited out by my work pals, I'd have a couple. But I knew that I didn't want to be home alone, so I sat at the bar and had my first ever whiskey sour. (Cue music)

I met a couple of funny guys there that day who said something about drinking like it was a Saturday even though it was a Tuesday. They told me to forget about the idiot who broke my heart - and that not all men were bad. I had 2 drinks and walked home. Then shortly thereafter I hurt my knee pretty badly. I was in a cast and on crutches and couldn't cook for myself or go too far so I decided to go back to the local establishment - they have pretty good food there. For the full 6 weeks I sat there in almost the same bar stool every night which is when I became addicted to what would be my vice for the next 8 months.

You're thinking that this is a story of how I became an alcoholic, don't you? Well, it's not. It's not because I'm not. I was close, but no, that's not this story. This is the story of how I became addicted to the bar. You see, there were a couple of people in particular who I met and connected with spiritually. My friends from the neighborhood all went there with some degree of regularity. The bar was like a petri dish and I thought there was such humor and drama there, that I decided to write a sit-com about it. It was this decision that changed me in some ways that I'm not proud of.

The customers there are some of the best you'll find anywhere. From crazy alcoholics to sexual deviants in bow ties - drug addicts and dealers, to yuppies with their twins in a stroller that equals someone's rent payment. They all converge on this one spot in the universe on an almost daily basis. If you thought of them in terms of elemental gases and energy - they converge and a star appears. These customers, they were what I found transiently amusing, however the true awesome was the staff.

There are so many different personalities at work at this establishment, that it would be difficult to do a psychological profile of the establishment as a whole. One would have to divide and subdivide everything. It made it increasingly amusing and challenging to figure out how all of these different persona could work together under one roof. I was sucked in to this world because it was so familiar to me, the personalities, the problems, the dramas, they could be found anywhere - under any roof where different people converge to do a task. The idea for the Television show is why I kept coming back, taking notes in my phone, researching the microcosm.

Now, the thing about me is this. I can be a chameleon. Not always, sometimes I'm a butterfly, spreading my multi-colored wings and flitting about. Sometimes I'm a dog, loyal to the death. Sometimes I can even be a fox, deceitful and cunning. But the chameleon, she's always with me. I can adapt to fit in to any social situation I encounter. If you see me at the Twisted Spoke, I can sit with bikers and other tattooed "freaks" like myself and do just fine. If you follow me on a Tuesday to the Drum and Monkey, you'll see a completely different set of people - young college kids - that I have no business hanging out with really, but there I'll be having a great time in an environment that most people would tell you I belong no where near. The problem with being a chameleon is a large one. If you choose to immerse yourself in an environment and a culture, you tend to adopt the habits and actions of those within the environment or culture. Hang out in an establishment with abusers of alcohol and you will begin to abuse alcohol.

2 months ago, I finally started synthesizing the notes I'd taken, and got back to the task at hand which was always the script. The thing I'd set out to do, I put on the shelf because of the friendships I'd forged in this environment. I was enjoying the hanging out part and the research part and forgot to do the writing part. When I started writing I'd realized that over the last 6 or 7 months I'd adopted a lot of behavior that I'm really not proud of. I'd started socially drinking at least 4 nights a week, sometimes more. I'd started one thing that I really didn't like about myself or anyone else, judging people. I sat back and realized how often I talk of the people who both work and play there. This establishment, as I sat to write jokes, didn't produce a lot of jokes. I became increasingly more self-aware and came to some realizations I didn't want to come to.

That's when I started doing something different. I started babysitting the first drink. Instead of binge drinking, I was going to slow it all down to the point of normalcy. I stopped doing shots. I started bringing things to do, games, books, even sketch books and pencils. I started trying to spend less and less time there. The drinking problem wasn't a problem, really. Changing the drinking habits was easy, there was a bigger challenge afoot for me - a challenge I still have.

If I'm sitting at home and get even remotely bored, my immediate reaction is to walk over to the bar. My brother and I were raised apart, and I was the only kid with a single mom for years. I'm rarely, if ever, lonely. I can go from extrovert to introvert in 2.5 seconds with no degree of difficulty. I know how to be alone, and am quite good at it actually. It's why I think of my relationship to the establishment as an addiction in and of itself. It's completely unnecessary for me to go there, however I find that if I don't have a task to do at home, if I even think about that place, within 4 minutes my key is in the door and I'm on my way there.

I've stopped drinking, completely. Now, if I could just get passed this other vice.

Apr 20, 2010


I have a couple of friends whose mere presence can inspire some amazing creativity in me. While they will remain nameless, I've written amazing poetry after hanging out with them - not necessarily about them or in reference to them - but something about them wakes up my creative senses. They unblock me in awesome ways. Wow that sounds - um ---->>>>

The other night was no exception. Sitting with them chatting and a third person was there who is not normally was mildly irritating so - I drew on the light of others and started doodling on paper. The corner of an envelope actually. And out of that I've birthed another painting. I have to go get canvas - but yeah - done and done. I actually got the idea for a series of images.

2 posts ago, I was afraid of art. Writing that post took the fear right out of me and I charged ahead with an idea. 1 post ago, I also wrote about art - with a little fear behind it as well - not knowing the direction of the show. Writing these things out helps me rid myself of them - I write, I release, I move forward.

Here's to the Angel/Devil Series. I'm rinsing brushes - NOW.

Apr 19, 2010


Wow, there are a lot of things happening in my world with my art. Finally. The weird thing is I don't want to exhibit damn near anything I have right now. Truth be told, I want to create for this show. What show? Well, I have a gallery opening on July 1st.

The thing is, that my non-channel 5 world is suddenly flourishing. As though the Universe is trying to tell me that I am - well, more than my job. It's been a slow process of the Universe telling me this. First when I didn't get the job that I've been doing for years now. That was the first sign, that was the Universe saying, "Heifer, really? TV News?" As devastated as I was, I didn't ever truly let it show. Why? Because I'm so much better than that.

So, back to the art of it all. I started work on 2 separate pieces that I think are the same piece. A diptych, if you will. An angel and a demon. Line work. I was inspired by an idea someone threw my way of getting out of my comfort zone and trying something new. I started work on a 3rd piece that is pretty dark, it's the skeleton of the Sphinx at Delphi, except I used the bone structure of bat wings. There's lots of rendered smoke. It's looking awesome thus far, at least digitally.

The problem with this show, at least the issue I have with it is this: I need a cohesive collection. My styles are many. I paint what my soul tells me. I can tell a color story - but a stylistically cohesive set - ouch. Granted, I have a lot of pieces that are one style, and a lot that are another style, but they are old to me. They aren't necessarily what I want to say, NOW. I'm in school full time and pretty much working full time, and the thought of painting a whole collection in the couple of months until the show is frightening. But I have ideas. Little ideas that might bring one cohesive collection together.

I started a painting called Vesica Pisces a few months back. I like it and I think that will be part of the collection, as will the Bartender painting. I guess I'll take from that style, and also do prints of some digital art. I'm scared and excited at the same time.

Here's to the rest of my life.

Apr 16, 2010


Fear is something I try not to subscribe to. Fear is a ridiculous emotion that is usually based on nothing. Last night someone asked me to do something. As an artist, a challenge is always welcome. The thing is, I was running on about an hour of sleep. I'd had a few cocktails, and what sounded like a fantastic idea - now in the morning is giving me nothing but panic attacks. Seriously, my palms are sweating, my heart is pumping erratically, my brain won't stop.

My artwork is very personal to me. The only commissioned work I've ever accepted involves me having full creative control and no one giving me any type of goal. I've gotten color choices and thematic ideas. "I need a piece for my living room, my accent colors are teal and brown, I like trees and the beach. Go." I can deal with that.

My style is fairly whimsical - though I hate that word. I inject magic into my art in the form of sigils. Most of which are so hard to find within the artwork that no one would ever know. I paint from inside out, which is why even the saddest art I've done - is happy by most standards. Because I inject magic into all of my work - using the themes of nature or abstract and extremely colorful and vibrant are a must to me. I don't work dark magic. Everything I do comes from a place of love. Unless it's from a place of mischief.

I was asked to do a dark piece. While I make some extremely sardonic comments, and can appreciate extremely dark film, music, and artwork - it's not something that comes from inside me. Darkness is something I seek outside of myself. I wrote a poem once about being "The Light". As someone who is "Light," I have no choice but to seek darkness. Darkness comes from the outside because the only thing inside of me is light. Being asked to conjure darkness from internally and show it to someone else scares me to the point of paralyzation. Not to mention, it's an almost impossible feat.

The reason I have no idea what to do in this situation - the reason I'm sitting here writing this missive - is fear. I'm incredibly flattered by the idea that someone thinks enough of me as a person and an artist to request my work. However, I have no idea how to start or even if I can. I imagine this project has a deadline - which is scarier than anything. But the scariest part is knowing that if I do it - I could disappoint one of the few people in my life that I'd never want to disappoint - however the same can be said about not doing it.


Apr 14, 2010


The thing about all these huge earthquakes is how even though we can find prophecies about this very occurrence, there is one underlying fact - history. The Earth changes every several thousand years. If one thinks about the human body our cells recreate themselves and we shed off the old cells making a new human, essentially, constantly. Who you were when you were six, is not who you are now, cellularly - let alone spiritually and mentally.

Picture the Earth is the same. The Earth recreates itself and shakes off what was once on it, in a cycle. Some survive, some do not. One of these recent earthquakes took the Earth off of its axis a full three inches. We continue to spin on the other axis however, and because of this we all go on as though nothing is happening. Tonight 8000 people or more were injured in an earthquake in China. We had Haiti, and Chile too.

I'm not the person who puts negative intention out into the world. When it comes to humankind and the Earth, all I can think of is LOVE and constant circulation of that emotion - that spiritual glow. I believe that something huge is coming for us, spiritually. Our race - the HUMAN race - will come together on a level never before seen. We will unite and be the hive and cease being the individual bees.

This is the only hope we have.
Embrace one another.

Apr 9, 2010

"The Voice of the Architect"

Last night I received a text message, that while at the time I'm sure was sent tongue-in-cheek, the truth is it made me think.

I'll start from the beginning, because I think the background is important. If you've read this blog at all, you know all about my clairaudience, you'll know all about my crazy stalkers, and you'll know all about how I find a lot of people highly annoying. I won't get into any of that. My friend Kelly and I hang out quite often and always talk about dancing. I figured it'd be a good idea for us to go out on a Thursday night and have a little dance party. I had to make arrangements for her to be able to leave work around midnight. Every now and then I like to make dinner for the staff of the Twisted Spoke, because I know how gross it is to be forced to eat the same food every day. My friend Peter came over early, as did my friend Courtney, and we had dinner at my place. When we were done, I boiled fresh pasta - and packed dinner for the Spoke. Bread, salad, pasta, Italian sausage, fresh parmesan - it was rather good if I do say so myself. Basically, I did some good for my fellow man that night. There was the extra added bonus of going out with my girl and cutting a rug. The goal was to get us out of our usual hang and stop the cycle of madness. I used to go dancing every Thursday, and for some reason or other I stopped. No mas.

At 11:00 I left the Spoke to go home and shower and change. It wasn't a massive change, so 30 minutes later I was back in the saddle, at the Spoke. Dancing didn't begin until midnight, so we had time for a pre-cocktail before we changed venues. I walked in to find my girl sitting with someone I wasn't expecting, and quite frankly wasn't really fond of. I'd invited Peter, and she'd told me she invited someone, but I didn't think that someone was the person I was staring at. As I'm sitting there, I see through the windows of the bar - one of the people who I'd consider mildly stalkerish, and quite frankly creepy. We have names for these people, but at the risk of giving away who it was - I'll simply use the term "gimp".

I text my friend Alex, "God hates me. "Can't get a word in edgewise AND the gimp? Time to go."

Now the truth is, when I sent that text - I really didn't expect a reply at all. At the most I expected a smile of recognition the next time he'd walked past. However, as I was staring at my phone looking for a phone number, up popped a text. The message stuck with me the whole night. I danced and it rang in my head. I went home and it rang in my head. I went to sleep and dreamt about it. I woke up and it was still with me. I've been up for about 4 hours now and I still can't shake it.

Truth is like a memory. When you hear it you re-member. You come back together. Truth hits you and like some elixir, everything is suddenly made right.

"It's not karma, but you're definitely not listening to the voice of the architect."

Funny, that thought. Because it's the most truthful thing anyone has ever said to me, even if it was via a digital - wireless - text transmission. As someone who has actually heard that voice I can truly say that he was right. Not necessarily related at all to the events of the night. Whatever, I mean I was sitting between someone who can't shut up, and someone who makes me uncomfortable- like I've never been in that position before. It was a deeper message, even if it wasn't intended that way.

You are definitely not listening to the voice of the architect.

Now the part of this all that strikes me, way beyond the message that was delivered to me, was what I sent back. Without giving it any thought at all. Just typing in words into my phone I said something quite poignant about what has been happening to me.

"I listen to all voices at once. The voice of the architect is like a 10,000 part harmony. Hard to hear the truth over the music."

Usually when I send a text message, it's like having a conversation. I think before I text, and usually I filter before I send. This was not me typing. I mean it was but it wasn't coming from conscious thought. I was in a noisy bar, with creep on one side and motor mouth en la otra. There was a great movie that I've seen playing in front of me. My friends Kelly and Peter were pretty outrageously loud and drunk and flamboyant as always. But me? Where was I? I was not even in the room I was in. I was holding a phone in my hands but I was somewhere floating above the bar looking down on the room full of people and watching the most discordant music flow from their souls. As much fun and sadness, misery and joy that was going on in that room, I couldn't filter it. Why? Because the architect was sending me thoughts through someone. Because I was listening to the architect, only I couldn't hear - I was reading the architect. And suddenly, I was back on the bar stool trying to get the group going.

Sometimes, for no reason you can comprehend, you are re-minded - that is - your mind is given back to you. Sometimes you stand under the truth - and understand its meaning. Sometimes all it takes is one little nudge from the most random source to realign you to what your nature is.

The truth is that there are a lot of moments in life where the architect, as it were, talks to you through someone. Sometimes that someone is on TV, or their words ring true for you through text on paper, sometimes what you need to hear is delivered to you through a billboard on the side of a bus. It doesn't matter how the message is delivered, it only matters that the message was delivered. And for me, it was. The first ultimate truth in a long time.

Even weirder is that right before I got the message, I read another message on the wall of the ladies room. Someone had quoted Keats' "Ode on a Grecian Urn".

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty."

Apr 7, 2010

The iPad

So, I'm annoyed that the WiFi at work is down, has been for a couple months, but my 3G service on my iPhone gets around that issue. But now that I bought the WiFi iPad, I want the WiFi back! Sure I'm sitting at a computer and can do all of the things I can on my iPad on an actual computer, but I wanted to play.

At home though, the thing is a dream. I watched a movie on it, 4 hours or more of television, and looked at some photos I hadn't looked at in a long time. I held the Pyramids of Giza in my hands. I watched a movie as I walked around the house. That thing is going to be the thing that makes me never want to leave my bed. Watching movies in bed is awesome, watching them on the iPad is just amazing.

I've been a Mac Addict for years now. I got my first iPod and almost immediately got a macbook pro, then an iMac, and now I've been through many iterations of all of the above. I have Apple TV, and after having it, I don't understand how I went without one for so long. Like the iPod, which when I first was able to carry around every Prince recording at once - not to mention my music library - after about a day I remember thinking, "How did I live without this?" The first time I lost my iPod, I thought, "I can't live without it!" I went on a vacation 2 years ago and my iPod died. I couldn't even wait until the morning to get a new one, I walked 3 miles to get an iPod Mini to hold me over until I could get mine fixed. Yes, I have problems.

My iPhone is like an appendage. I carry it at all times, and unlike the first cellphones I had which were just pains in the ass to me, I can't go anywhere without it. I've actually taken cabs back from work during my lunch hour to get it on days I've forgotten it at home.

Now, I have an iPad. I don't yet think of it as something I can't live without - like my iPod, my iMac, my Apple TV, and my iPhone. But looking at the list - I'm sure that someday soon, I'll totally feel naked without it.

It is awesome. I'm in geek love again. Steve Jobs, you owe me at the very least one of the wheels on your car.

Apr 5, 2010

God # ?

I have no idea how many God posts I've written, so eff trying to number this one.

Every now and again you remember what God means to you. My whole life, God was equivalent to the feeling of unconditional, undeniable, love. Tonight I listened to a song, and throughout I realized that God was with me. Why? Because something about the lyrics or music or vibe of that song took me to a place of unconditional love. The place where you don't care if he loves you back. The place where you don't want anything at all. The place where nagging, and guilt trips, and every other stupid human retarded emotional thing doesn't matter.

I heard some lyrics and could only think of a feeling.

I fell in love.
The kind that doesn't need recognition or requital.

Some songs are just perfect.

Mar 31, 2010

My Guilty Pleasures

1. Pretending Wednesday is Sunday and spending the half of the day that I have nothing to do... in bed.
2. Gossip Girl. Yes, that show is one of my guilty pleasures, deal.
3. Horrible bubblegum pop music. The crappier the better.
4. Teen angst movies. (Probably because of #2 and #3)
5. Stinky socks.
6. Surfing the net - for nothing at all.
7. Apple products. iPhone, iPod, Apple TV, MacBook Pro, iMac, and soon - iPad.
8. The Smurfs. I grew up on it, and any cartoon that has a Zombie episode = cool.
9. The early episodes of Popeye. It is the most racist, and stupid thing in the world. I love it.
10. Horrible romantic comedies. This I get from my mother, and the estrogen that courses through my veins.

Mar 28, 2010

How I Cope.

I've realized that most women cope with anger, sadness, and stress in a completely different way than I do. Most women will eat a pint of ice cream, watch Old Yeller or some sad movie, sulk and cry. I had the opportunity to do that last night and opted out.

Instead, I wrote a blog post about my tears falling inside, someone else's words, but true nonetheless. It's the post beneath this one if you're interested in reading it. So, I wrote. Then I sat on the couch for about 45 seconds and processed the motivation behind what went down that got me to that point, and decided that sulking and being angry about it was pointless. I played some Sarah Vaughan. I listened to her sing Summertime, and I sang it right along with her. "One of these mornings you're gonna rise up singing, then you'll spread your wings and you'll take to the sky. But till that morning, there ain't nothin' can harm you, so hush little baby don't you cry."

I got up after that, after Sarah sang "don't you cry" to me, and I hadn't and wasn't going to, but that meant that it really wasn't worth it. I got up and played some Corinne Bailey Rae - "Three little birds sat on my window, and they told me I don't have to worry.."

A couple of female singers, some music, some singing, some dancing, and the feelings vanished. They were replaced by this feeling of equanimity. It's funny, in the last 2 years I've truly become a different person. I deal with things in ways that make sense to me and keep me sane. I don't punch walls, I don't shed tears, I don't get aggressive. I dance, sing, paint, and laugh. If there are moments where my laughter is punctuated and the next emotion is the opposite, I find a way to get back to the laughter.

Mental health is a wonderful thing.


Sometimes, there are no words. Sometimes for no reason you can conceive some aspect of the everything and everyone decides to single themselves out as the asshole. Sometimes sadness happens in the midst of laughter, from something as simple as a text or an email, to something as complicated as someone saying the wrong thing to you. Sometimes anger comes from nowhere, like a beast lumbering through the dark woods waiting for the chipper Red Riding Hood.

Everyone has had this experience. You are in the midst of your joy and the opposite attacks you out of some dark corner of an alley. Hell, sometimes this happens without any outside force making it happen. Sometimes, in fact, you do it to yourself.

When I get to that place, I know it's time to go. I could be enjoying myself to the utmost, then suddenly, I am gone replaced with a shell of my former self. No one needs to ask me what's wrong. My face says it all.

"When I cry, there is no love. No there is nothing that can comfort me enough." One of my favorite singers sang that in a song. "When I cry, every tear falls deep inside. The salt inside my body ruins everyone I come close to. My hands are barely holding up my head." I've been that song. Right now, I am that song.

Tomorrow I will find my light again. Sleep needs to come fast tonight. Sleep between tears - of both anger and sadness.

Mar 27, 2010

The Importance of Friends

I had an experience that made me appreciate my friends and family even more. The experience isn't what's important... but the feeling I got from it. I had a night that made me realize why I have and hold my friends. I realized why I am a great friend to those who I choose to be one to, and more importantly, I realized just what they bring into my life.

I have a motley collection of friends from various places in life, work, school, the neighborhood I grew up in, theatre, the neighborhood I live in now... I don't always stay in touch as much as I'd like, or do as many things together as I'd like, but I keep them in a special place in my heart always. Someone recently said something about me, without exactly knowing that I would find out what they said. "She's always been better to others than herself." I find that to be the unvarnished truth. Last night I became highly self-aware of just how true this is.

I'd like my friends, all of them, the real ones, the internet ones, the family friends, the old ones and the new ones to know one thing. If you don't know it already, you aren't paying attention. If I count you as a friend, I will take a bullet for you. I will do anything in my power to make sure you are happy even on your darkest day. If I get mad at you, it won't last. I don't like to see one of my friends upset for a long period of time so anger is fleeting with me.

I'm not a perfect person by any means. If someone wrongs one of my friends, I take it personally. If someone talks negatively about someone I like, I'll disown that person from my life in a heartbeat. I don't like to watch people treat other people like shit so, the ones that do, are the ones that go in the dislike pile. When you get there, know this. You won't know that you're there, I'll smile and chat with you and you'll think everything is groovy. What will happen is that selfless girl who would run through a field of stinging nettles barefoot to stop you from crossing the same field will cease to exist in your world. I will be polite and nice and sweet, but I will not be what I am to my true friends. If there is one truth it's that I'm loyal, like any good bitch should be.

So, last night I saw of myself what other people see. I was moved by it. Becoming self aware is really weird. I'm glad it happened. However, part of me is kinda frightened at the whole prospect of living up to who I am. Now that I am aware of it, I hope I don't lose it.

The importance of friends is this:
The ones that you love help you grow as a person. The ones that piss you off help you grow as a person too, probably moreso. There are those people in your life that serve one purpose, to make you appreciate the ones that make you happy, make you think, bring you joy, and help your spirit grow. Even assholes have an importance in your life, they are like the sea to the sky - reflecting a difference that even though the sky and the sea are vastly different, occasionally the sky will spill the sea back into itself.

Hold fast to your friends. Keep the good, the bad, the amazing, and the not-so-amazing. Every interaction with them will expand your soul. Afterall, the soul is the only reason we exist.


Mar 26, 2010

The Age Requirement for Fun

Sometimes I wake up in the morning and spend a couple minutes thinking to myself, "Why did I act like a juvenile last night?" The thing about this thought is for me, it only lasts a couple minutes. The real questions are, "Did I laugh? Did I have fun? Did the people with me laugh and have fun?" If the answer to these other questions is yes, it's clear that the initial question has no meaning in the sense of anything that's real.

Not to go all Robert Fulghum on you, but there are things we learn as children that we forget as adults. We forget how to laugh at the absurd. We forget that how other people perceive us is unimportant if we are enjoying ourselves. We forget that to have true connections with others in this world, we have to cease being individuals for a second and just laugh together.

In honor of Robert Fulghum (Author of All I Ever Need To Know I Learned in Kindergarten):

If We Only Knew Now, What We Knew Then.

1. Holding hands will keep you from getting lost.
2. Being barefoot is far better than having shoes on. This is especially true on a rainy day.
3. Candy tastes better before dinner than after.
4. Anything that doesn't make you laugh or have fun is unnecessary.
5. Anything you create with love is beautiful. (I made some hideous macaroni necklaces for my Mom, and thought they were the best thing ever.)
6. Chalk +Sidewalk=Hours of awesome.
7. The best games are the ones that come from your imagination.
8. There is always an invisible friend nearby to give you direction. (As an adult it's my higher self, as a child her name was Julie.)
9. Play time is essential.
10. Anything shaped like a ball can lead to hours of enjoyment. (Rubber, clay, wood, glass, meat... the possibilities are endless)

Remember what you lost when you grew up. Be a delinquent, have fun. Life is too short to take anything too seriously. Don't regret anything. But most importantly remember, anything that doesn't make you laugh or have fun is unnecessary. The soul grows more with laughter than tears.

Mar 24, 2010

This morning.

This morning I woke up with a need to paint. I needed to put brush to canvas in the worst way and had no idea why. The piece I'm painting is Puerto Rican Folklore themed so musically I opted for some Latin Jazz. Nothing like a little jazzy Mambo number to get the ideas flowing.

I stopped painting when I heard the music though. My feet needed to dance. And that's exactly what I did. For a couple of hours I spun, kicked, twirled, and danced around until the sweat gathering on my brow started to drip into my eyes. Soon I was so involved that I had a transcendent experience. I saw how amazing my life is and has been. How every little moment in my life has led me to the place I am now. How the friends I have met in the last 35 years are people that I will never lose from my life. I danced and remembered friends who danced with me through my life, and how the rhythms of certain songs take me back to moments with them. How hearing a song that we'd shared can take me back to the scents and feelings of summers past.

I stopped dancing and sat down to think about music. My musical tastes are eclectic - as an artist, I like some progressive rock and intense music - as a dancer, I can get down to anything with a beat - as a Puerto Rican island music sings to me. There is absolutely no genre of music that I can't find the amazing in, even some Miley Cyrus bubble gum pop catastrophe has its place in the universe somewhere. I could never have a party and just hit shuffle on my iPod though. I can picture it now... sitting at dinner and the cast recording of Les Miserables fires off. Worse still, the soundtrack for Aladdin - just picture it. I did a puppet show once with the music from Disney's Aladdin, but that's not what my guests would believe.

Thing is, I'm a happy girl, so I like happy music. I can get down with some deep depressive shit too, don't get me wrong. I just prefer to listen to something that will motivate me, so danceable sounds are often emanating from my stereo. When I get pensive you might hear something deep and romantic... Billie Holiday - Sarah Vaughan - Rosemary Clooney. Then I go off on a tangent and some intricate crazy guitar will come on - Pastorius, Vai, Keneally, Tommy Emmanuel...

I think music is a deeply personal thing, we all don't like the same music - which is why I like to meet people who like things that I would normally not listen to. It grows me as a person. I like growing... like a vine searching out the sun for nourishment - reaching up to grasp the warm light.

As I write this, there is silence in the house. The music has stopped again. I think I might hit shuffle. Afterall, I am in an empty house.

Mar 23, 2010


Today, I go to karaoke. It's something I do once a week without fail, unless I have to work the next morning - then, all bets are off. There's a thing about karaoke though, there are many different reasons why I do it.

The Drum and Monkey is just a pub in the middle of the UIC campus, which makes it the type of place I'd never hang out in regularly. Oddly enough, the kids that hang out there, the staff, and the regular singers, are all pretty cool people. Sure there's the occasional douche nozzle, but for the most part, they are all cool. Unlike my usual hangout, no one has ever rubbed their rear end on me, or their front end for that matter, no one has spilled a drink on me, and none of the people that go to THAT bar have ever stalked me - at least not horribly.

The thing about the Drum and Karaoke is this... I'd been to karaoke at other bars before. I never felt comfortable. I always felt self-conscious, nervous, and anxiety ridden. There is something about the atmosphere of that bar that makes me feel perfectly at home. The regulars that sing on Tuesdays have become pals of mine, some of us have actually cultivated actual friendships and chill outside of the confines of that bar. There is just something spiritual about that place. I can't truly explain it. But I'm going to try.

The first time I went there was with a co-worker that I would normally not be hanging out with. We have different value systems, beliefs, ideals, and senses of humor. I was already a bit nervous going to karaoke with him because of this. Cest la vie, I went anyway. Because I knew no one, I just went up, put a song in, and waited. When Jim called me up there, I sang like there was no such thing as fear. And that's when they gave me my own nickname at that bar. From that moment, I became "Lisa Fuckin' G."

They've changed DJs multiple times since I've been going there, right now we're on number 3. Matt's pretty awesome. He doesn't even care that I'll call him a dick on the mic repeatedly. And he does a great job with the mix making sure that it's not just random songs in random order. And, he still calls me Lisa Fucking G. I have a friend who brings me new music without me even asking for it. I've even had to sing a song a cappella when the music wouldn't function. It was fun.

It's not about singing in public, or singing good songs - since most of the shit I sing there is horrible pop music. It's about releasing my entire week of tension in a way that's safe, and fun, and harmless. Rather than punch a bag, or a d-bag... I sing.
People clap. I go home.

I love Tuesdays. Here's to tonight.

Mar 21, 2010

Random Haiku

In silence we love
Nothing but some circumstance
Keeping us apart.

Come and rescue me
From the pain within my heart
Want to hold your hand.

Feathers on my skin
From the breath that leaves your lungs
Giggles on my neck.

Smiling like a fool
Every time I hear your voice
Now my cheeks just hurt.

Your smile is so green
Like a watermelon rind
Sweet like honeydew

Oak tree in the wind
My love rustles through your leaves
Tickling the sky

Strawberry scented
Tresses flowing down my back
Patient for your dive

A top ten list - sorta.

This post is going to be random thoughts about things. Little sentences that explain how I feel about life. Words I live by, things my parents taught me, and who I am in a nutshell. A list, for fun. (Like a marathon fortune cookie)

1. A woman doesn't put on makeup when she sets out to love someone, only when she sets out to find someone to love her. Metaphorically, I never wear makeup. It's always better when you expect nothing in return.

2. Dance every day, even if only for a moment - in the dark - alone.

3. Never be a version of yourself. Just be yourself. When you start to tone yourself down for any given situation, you cease being magical. (Unless you are that loud woman that I know who I've started referring to as "Old Yeller." Then please. Tone it down.)

4. Spiritual learning occurs from every direction. Always be nice to those around you, even if they are the choadiest of choads. You learn experientially, so experience everyone.

5. Soar. ((Not sore.)) Never be afraid to fall because you've reached unimaginable heights. Falling doesn't hurt you as much as not trying will.

6. Wake up every morning and smile, the day that you don't wake up thankful and happy is the day you should reassess your situation and adjust accordingly.

7. Meditate on what you have done. Reflection is the key to moving forward through the minefield of life. Reflecting back will give you a map that moves you forward.

8. Apologize. It's always someone's turn to be the asshole. A true friend has probably already forgiven you. If not, at least you made the effort.

9. Love. Send it from your soul in every direction. Send it into the future and the past - the ever flowing mobius strip of the now.

10. Fear has no place in your life or soul. Never play it safe. Never spare yourself from something amazing. If someone tells you that something is a bad idea, remember advice and directions are not the same thing. Let your soul be your pilot - anything from outside of yourself is someone else's reality.

Mar 19, 2010

I wrote something about arguments and relationships a couple days ago. The piece was about how most arguments in any given relationship are unnecessary and stem from a place of fear usually. Again, I believe that fear is the opposite of love - so the fact that most blow ups in relationships come from the opposite of love - proves how unnecessary they are. In that post I mentioned my goal for a relationship, being with someone who understands how unnecessary the majority of relationship related arguments are. The thing is, even if I find this person right now - they'd have to wait for me. Why? Well...

Now the thing about being single, after having been in a committed relationship for a long time is finding yourself again. The problem with some relationships is that people change who they truly are in order to fit into some vision they have of the couple. Someone wants to change someone else and voilá - in doing so they change who they are. On June 10, 2008 the person I'd been for a long time ceased to exist. I wanted to find the old me.

I stopped being the spiritual person I am for a while. I stopped dancing. I stopped sharing myself with the world in the selfless ways that made me feel whole and connected to the universe. I stopped being me.

On 6/10 I set out on a goal to find her. And boy did I. I LOVE that girl. I couldn't believe she'd been gone for so long. Sure, there were glimpses of her here and there, but effectively she was gone. Now that I've found her, for the most part, I don't ever want to let her go again. I don't ever want the connection I have to the universe to be severed, ever again.

Imagine the following. For years you can hear the most beautiful music emanating from the souls of the people around you. For years you can walk through the city streets and find miracles on every corner. For years you can see the most vibrant colors and then one day, everything is grayscale, the music is silenced, and miracles cease.

Finding miracles, hearing the music, and seeing the amazing colors of life is better when you have someone to share your miracles with, someone who can hear the music with you, and someone who can appreciate the colors that you see. Watching a sunset alone isn't the same as sharing it with someone - and remembering the shared experience. It will take a very, very special person to share my life with. And while I adore being single, and listening to the music of the universe again... I'd be lying if I said that sharing the experience with someone who understands isn't better than going it alone. Having a co-conspirator in the game of life is always the goal.

But right now, I'm enjoying the reintegration of my spirit and myself too much to muck it up with a relationship. Granted, things happen and sometimes you don't have a say in the matters of the heart. Sometimes your subconscious has a different plan for you than you realize. The soul knows better than the mind - always. So sometimes you don't have a say in the matter... opportunities arise that you were blissfully unaware of.. or worse that scare the shit out of you because they weren't in your master plan.

Right now, I'm happy loving myself, and some day I'll share that love with someone else. Whether that's in a year or two or a week or two depends on my soul's plan. But this post pretty much delineates my brain's plan.

Mar 17, 2010

Sometimes you laugh a lot...

Today was one of those days that I just found the funny in everything. I'm usually a pretty happy-go-lucky kinda gal, but today just went beyond.

I woke up all pissy. Why? Because I had to get up at the ass-crack of the morning to judge what I was told was to be a poetry competition for the Chicago Public Schools Area 4. I got there and found out it was the Academic Decathlon's Oratory competition. That changed things a bit, it made things a bit more interesting. Apparently, I was the "celebrity" judge. The other two judges were retired educators.

I took off my hoodie and three of the kids in the room said, "Cool, check out her tattoos!" It made me smile. I had apparently gotten there an hour early, so I sat and read through the rules of the competition, looked at the judging sheets, and finally at the material that the kids were going to recite. That's when I lost it.

Almost every one of the kids was going to recite a eulogy. In case there is someone out there who is unaware of what a eulogy is, it's the speech that is given at a funeral about the deceased. I was about to watch a bunch of middle school kids give eulogies. In essence, I was going to judge a marathon funeral. I couldn't stop laughing.

Both of the girls who won, were the only two who DIDN'T recite eulogies. Let that be a lesson to anyone out there about to join an oratory competition - stay away from the funeral speech.

During lunch, the principal of the school was sitting at our table and called out to one of the students, "Crochet, why aren't you wearing any shoes?" I blinked, CROCHET? Really, the kid's name is CROCHET? It brought to mind a story that my friend Katy told about a child named Abcde, pronounced "Absidee." I told the story and we went around the room talking about the names that the teachers in the room had heard over the years. Courvoisier, Brandy Alexander, Obamanique Michelle... I had to laugh.

Later in the day I had an appointment with Scott Fricke to get tattooed. We laughed a lot during the session, but when I came to the topic of the children's names he told me something hilarious. A friend of his girlfriend had a student in her class named Chantell. However, the teacher had to gesticulate with her hands during pronunciation of this name or the child wouldn't respond. Why, you might ask? Because the child's name included a swoosh of the hand at the end. Seriously. I died.

Licenses for parents. It's been said before and I'll say it again. There should be a law. Kids should be protected from this naming problem. Except of course for the child that might be named Megatron. Yes, read about that here.

Mar 16, 2010

There is almost nothing worse...

Than being a magnet. I realize that there is something about my aura or personality that makes me one. I've said it before. But why is it always the loneliest person that has to attach themselves? Ugh!

As I was sitting there writing this my friend came up and said that she was thinking about my magnet status as well as hers. She said, "You're a magnet for the crazy, lonely guy/girl who wants to have a conversation for 4 hours." Then she added that she's a magnet for crazy-go-nuts types, and our friend Nikki is a magnet for crazy couples. Now, since the three of us hang out together, our magnetism becomes some sort of trifecta of magnetism and we end up with every nut job within a 4 mile radius wanting to hang out. It's upsetting.

Tonight I was trying to eat a burger when the most talkative dude came up to sit next to me. This guy could monologue for hours on end. He will talk to someone even when it's obvious that they're not listening. Why was the only place to sit - directly next to me? He wasn't there for 5 minutes before the "Radioactive Douchebag" came in and parked himself next to us as well. The thing I have to be most thankful for was that I was literally stopping in to have a burger and then leave. I had things to do and a bed to jump into before midnight, because I'm judging a children's poetry contest in the morning.

Leaving was twice as enjoyable as it would have been because these shit demons were there. So I guess I have that to be thankful for!

I think I need to talk more and listen less, especially when the talkies sit next to me. I should just start rambling on about the dumbest shit I can think of. Although that invites them to the party, doesn't it? I need to think about some way to make myself off-putting. I need to become the shit that I attract somehow.

I reject the U.S. Census.

So, I'm doing my civic duty and filling out the U.S. Census... and then I get to question number 8.

"For the purposes of this Census, Hispanic origins are not races."

Then question number 9,

(Check one or more boxes)

American Indian / Alaskan Native

There are even boxes for "GUAMANIAN and CHAMORRO"

So, what box do I mark off? Other? Really? So, U.S. Census - I've decided to mark off every freaking box that's under "race", even Guamanian. According to the writing on the envelope, filling out the Census form is required by law, however no where does it state that you have to fill it out in any way that makes sense.

From now on, I'm part Guamanian, because apparently they're important enough to have their own box.

Suck it Census.

Mar 15, 2010

Arguments and Relationships

A friend of mine told me a story that had been told to him by one of his friends. This person (the friend of a friend) was in the middle of a heated argument with his wife and when he went to yell, he farted. He started laughing and effectively ended the argument by "hugging it out." Afterall, who can argue after something like that.

The story got me to thinking about relationships and arguments in general. Every argument I've ever had in a relationship, in retrospect, was unnecessary. They almost always stemmed from one of the other person being jealous, depressed, fearful, or insecure. Think about every argument you've ever had with a significant other... Think about what the arguments were about...

At this point in my life, I know the type of relationship I'd like to be in. I'd like to be in one where the other person and I can discuss things without them escalating. I've made enough stupid relationship mistakes in my life by now to know that nothing good comes from bottling shit up and then blowing up like some sort of explosive charge. Sure, there is the need for some type of discussion and argument but almost all other arguments in relationships that stem from one of those four places is unnecessary.

Of course, everything isn't always sunshine and roses...

hug it out.
(Farting is optional.)

Mar 12, 2010

Astral Projection

Astral projection is something that everyone - yes everyone, even you - can do.

There was this book I read called OBEs for beginners. OBE is the acronym for Out of Body Experience. This book basically states that to astral project you just need to go through constant self-affirmation about it. All day repeat to yourself "I will leave my body today." Or something similar that means something to you. "My soul will travel today and I'll be aware of it." That was my affirmation.

Now, I read this book after having astral projected accidentally - well maybe not accidentally - it was necessary. Read "Bravery-Reposted from Facebook" for one of the instances of necessary OBE. When I was a child I used to do it all the time, but I was unaware of why or what was going on... to me it was just imagination or wishful thinking or a kid being a kid. I thought it was natural.

I read the OBE book after one of my accidental out of body experiences, because I wanted to learn how to control it. Everyone wants control over their spirit, over their soul, over themselves. It's not something that a lot of people attain because the truth is most people are too involved in the minutia of daily life to know that they can do something incredible. But I wanted to do something specific. I wanted to visit Egypt.

So I set out on the instructions in the book. All day long whenever I remembered, I said - often aloud - "My soul will travel today and I'll be aware of it." Awareness in my opinion leads to control.

That night I went home and read a chapter of the book, pausing between sentences to state my new mantra. The chapter was all about the author's understanding of the best way to eject your soul from your body. The author's idea was to somersault out of your body. Now here's where things get funny for this first experience where I was fully in control of the situation.

The idea is that the best time to astral project is either right as you're about to fall asleep, when you are at your most relaxed. The other best time to do it is right before you are fully awake. As you're reaching for the snooze button.

I went to bed, and as I lay down I repeated the mantra once more. I was über tired, so I just went for it. I was laying there and closed my eyes and just as I felt like I was going to pass out, I did it. I did a backward somersault out of my body. It took about three tries. Now, the funny thing is that at the time the headboard to my bed was against one of the outer walls of the house that I lived in. I somersaulted out of my body and went straight out that wall and just hovered there staring down - I lived on the second floor. Oddly enough, I'm pretty scared of heights, so I kinda freaked out a little. I somersaulted right back in to my body.

I figured, maybe a backward somersault isn't the right idea... so I somersaulted forward. Then I floated above myself and watched myself sleep. I floated out of the bedroom and around the apartment. My puppy, Mahli, started barking at me. She chased my astral body. I thought it was funny, but had something I wanted to do, so I shot up through the attic, through the roof and floated above the street. Attaching me to my physical body was what looked like a string. I knew by looking at this iridescent thread that I could go anywhere and always get back. I soared through the city. I wanted to go to New Orleans and suddenly - I was there... floating through Cemetery Number One, one of my favorite places in the world. I saw spirits and essences everywhere, with not a hint of anything sinister or evil... everything was beautiful, everything in its place.

I wanted to go back to my body, and suddenly I was there, in the bedroom hovering over myself. Getting back into myself was interesting because I can't even truly describe the feeling. It was like a toilet being flushed in my chest and a whirlpool sucked my spirit back into my body. I couldn't move my body though, and it scared me. I thought, "was I gone too long?" But I relaxed again and slowly opened my eyes.

I suggest that if you haven't tried this, you do. There is nothing more liberating than knowing you're more than your brain and your body. The essence of who you are is real and can exist separately from your physical being. Knowing this puts your life into a whole different perspective. It also helps you understand your place in the universe, and the true nature of your fellow man.

Migrating my blog

So, I have to migrate my blog - which means that the likelihood that it'll be down for a while is pretty high. The likelihood that it won't all come back - also high.

I don't mind so much for the stupid posts where I write about snapple bottle caps, or things like "I love this emoticon" from years ago... but the fact that the blog has been active for YEARS now is awesome, the fact that some of it might end up missing is sad.

I am weeping. (Not really, what I am is in a downward spiral of insomnia.)

I like reading through the old posts sometimes and just laughing. It's quite funny to see some of the things that I've said over the years, and wonder - where did that girl go? When you read through the years from then to now, you can truly see that a change took place somewhere along the line.

I think that's pretty awesome.

I hope the migration goes smoothly.
*Fingers crossed*

Mar 5, 2010


Ugh. Some nights you just go balls out / balls to the wall / basically you do something with the balls that as a woman you don't physically have - but metaphorically...

Anyway. To my ridiculously ridiculous night and horrifyingly bad morning... the following song.

Weekend by Mike Keneally.

This is the twisted weekend of my life
I walk and mumble
I mumble to myself for an hour
and I think my head is going to explode
These are the strangest moments of my days
There is no focus
Voices from on high are laughing
And I think my head is going to explode
Play fair you blasted forces
Play fair you deities
I can't predict your courses
My brain a slurpee freeze
Relent you flippin' forces
Retreat you wicked gods
Retreat on winged horses
I can't abide these odds.

This is the twisted weekend of my life
I walk and mumble
I cannot drag myself into the shower
And I think my face is going to explode
Inside of the next hour
These are the strangest moments of my days
And voices from on high are laughing
Their talk makes me weak
This is the twisted weekend of my life
I mumble to myself for an hour
And my heart pop out my chest

Play fair you horrid voices
Play fair you hijinx lords
Your point is ten fold proven
You've gone well overboard
Relent you piercing voices
Make past tense your shrieks
You lousy good for nothings
You scoffing shrieking freaks

This is the twisted weekend of my life
I walk and mumble
I mumble to myself for an hour
And I think my head is going to explode
And voices from on high are laughing
Their talk makes me weak
I cannot drag myself into the shower
This is the twisted weekend of my life

Play fair you blasted forces
Play fair you deities
I can't predict your courses
My brain. A slurpee. Freeze.
Relent you flipping forces
Retreat you wicked gods
Retreat on winged horses
I can't abide these odds.

This is the twisted weekend of my life
And I think
My head
Is going to

Feb 22, 2010

A course in God and Finances

I believe in God. I don't think God is some dude up on a cloud deciding what is right and what's wrong. I believe in God as an observer. To me, God is the Universe. It would be important to note that many people believe that God isn't a mere observer - but God is - as one horrible idiot once claimed himself to be - a decider. I think this has caused so many problems in our society - that is the GLOBAL SOCIETY - that we're in the catastrophic mess we're in now because of this idea.

Religions are mostly fear based. Fear being the opposite of love. I don't think Hate is the opposite of love, why? I love those I hate. Hate almost always begins with love and love is never completely extricated from the emotion of hate. A lot of misdirected emotion stems from fear. The last person I hated - and there are very few people I hate - but to be quite honest.. fear was the cause, hate the effect.

There's a lyric written by someone who I know no longer believes the words to be true... "Your God is inside and for that God you will do whatever it takes - if nothing else is true - the only one that can save you - is you." (PRN) The decider - the one who can give then taketh away - that's not some dude with a long beard on a cloud, it's you. You can manifest anything in your life right now by merely deciding finally that it's yours. Not that you want it, or that it'll be yours someday - by knowing with all you are that it's already yours.

I've heard one too many times people bitching about God. "God gave the Smiths the Lottery winnings, and I go to church every Sunday and God took away my pension in the stock market." I think it's why I don't choose to believe in the "Economic Crisis". People tell us, the masses, things through the news media, (Yes I get the irony, shut up) and we start to panic. In our minds we collectively believe that Oh My God, the sky is falling. So what happens when we all together think the same thing? We bring it about. We cause our own downfall by believing the very shit that a small group of people put out into the world, and the media, including social networks - shit, especially social networks nowadays - spread that shit like nutella on toast.

I decided that in my reality I'd go the other way. I haven't stopped spending money like it's burning a hole in my pocket. I blow a ton of money at my local tavern, and I over tip like I have Oprah bankrolling my drinking habit. Money keeps rolling in for me, there's always food on my table, I'm never broke, and yet I open my wallet and drop bills on the street. Yet others - richer others hold their wallets to their chests like there's a secret inside that would destroy the universe if released. They pinch pennies 'til they bleed the zinc filling. Creating, in their reality, even more scarcity.

Now, I'm not saying that if you make minimum wage you should go and throw your money out the window. But if you want to know how to never have to worry about money, here's the secret. Stop worrying about money.

I have a lot of friends and some family who are currently unemployed. Often other people's insanity when thinking that the sky is falling causes Henny Penny to get clobbered with a chunk of sky even though it's Chicken Little that's the one crying. That's where things get sad. What you believe and cause in your own reality can often slop over into someone else's reality. So to all the business owning Chicken Littles out there, scarcity is a farce. Live a life of abundance and you will help Henny Pennies all over the place. There aren't enough CAT Scan machines out there, and concussions are being handed out like candy on Halloween morning.

Feb 14, 2010

People Watching

A little over a year ago I posted a missive about a man named Emmett R. McBain III. Since then other interesting things have happened however instead of riding the trains and observing people, I've found a new place to do that. People watching has always been something important to me. Without my observations of people, I wouldn't get inspiration to paint. Without it I wouldn't be inspired to write. Mainly though, without it the jigsaw puzzle of my soul would never find the missing pieces.

People watching led me to Emmett McBain III and Tim Harrison and many others. People watching has helped me see just how people act, especially when they think no one is watching them. Worse still is what people do when they KNOW people are watching them. Sad actually.

People watching led me to the scripts I've written for a show that I'd love to actually air one day. Hope it comes true - then maybe you can watch these interesting people too.

Jan 25, 2010


As evidenced by this photo I had a great time at my birthday party. I'm pretty sure other people had a great time too! There's just something to me about celebrating getting through one more year of life with people who you adore. After the year I've had thus far, yes I mean 2010, the idea of having a crazy birthday party was well invited. I'm glad I did it.

There was singing, and dancing, and fun. Good friends and good times at a great place.

I feel blessed.