kitty love

A wink and a nod

2006-09-03T08:50:00.000-07:00

A close friend of mine who works in law enforcement rang me up one evening in a decicedly cranky frame of mind.My friend is a bounty hunter;i.e.,he finds individuals that have jumped bail and returns them to local law enforcement.Anyway,said friend told me that a man he captured was found innocent of 2 counts of rape(both victims were 14 years old)but convicted on witness tampering and furnishing alcohol to minors.He recieved 8 years,most of the sentance suspended.Also,within the same county(Turner county)a 17 year old man is still strolling around after being charged with 21 counts of rape.Now,is it just me,or do does the implicit message being set to sex offenders in South Dakota is that it's cool man,just don't get caught doing the deed.

After a three years in grad school I learned many things;how to tie a bowline knot,how to deal with a panicked freshman(homework,oh yeah!)and that gender still matters in matters of law.As my Ancient Studies prof emphasized,litle has changed since ancient Rome concerning women's rights.In fact,rape was considerd a capital offense(punishible by death)and the victim rights were taking into closer condieration than the perps.Now, the victim's testimony is challenged,and his/her sexual history is brought into play.I realize there are some sleazy bitches out there that accuse a guy of rape to fuck with their world.As a undergrad I knew a crazy girl that went after her boyfriend six months after he slept with her.He ended up getting kicked out of OCS and school because of it,then she dropped the charges.

But by and large(and sadly I am speaking from first hand knowledge)most victims despise the judicial process and the attention from the media concerning a sexual assault case.One feels like they have swam in shit after testifying,and having to be in the same room as the perp for days on end is too much to bear at times.The man who assaulted me recieved 20 years in prison,but I was marked for life because of his actions.I am almost 40 years old,and I still have not had any healthy relationship's,and I still do not trust men.I don't hate men,but I do not trust them.

The state of South Dakota has great deal to answer for concerning the treatment of women and girls.Our good Catholic governor should be concerned about the inequality of wages for women,the fact that many women and children in this state live at poverty level or below,that infant death is fairly high in relation to other states etc.And that being female in this state entitles the State to control your personal health decisions and to deny a woman a justice,when her body and spirit are assailed.

mr.horse said...

2006-08-13T18:33:00.000-07:00

So,I went the airport to pick up the Eldest Child and had some time to mooch around the lobby/security area.Out of couriosity I approached an employee of TSA and asked if the cellphone ban was a hassle to enforce
What cell phone ban?
So I told the TSA person what the airline and news told me;that cell phones,lap tops and such electronic items were listed as banned in the cabin.The TSA official giggled and said that there was lot of mis-information out there;i.e hearsay and conjecture.The official said there were variences of the types of food banned even,no on yogurt,sandwich okay!
I found out my daughter's luggage was lost(containing the cell phone that United required her to pack)along with certain sanitary items.
JUST FOR ONCE CAN EVERYONE BE ON THE SAME PAGE?
I realize that this is minor compared to other travel horror stories written in the past 72 hours.However,it scares me when no one has a fucking clue and peoples welfare/lives are affected by this rumour-mongering, fan the flames of looniness BULLSHIT!!!
THe luggage was later found,and on the drive home with SLEEPING DAUGHTER,COMPLAINING SIBLING, Igave silent thanks that she had made it back okay.But my joy also is clouded by a little fear;a Senator from my state informed the media Friday night that these extraordinary security measures may be the first step in maintaining a secure Homeland.
So what was his inferance?
Roadblocks and checkpoints?Travel passes similier to the ones used in the former Soviet Union?
I hope I mis-understood his comment.

hand over the suppositories,and no one gets hurt.....

2006-08-12T15:46:00.000-07:00

Great party last week-end,hope all had good time.Note to self; do not let certain donkeys drink warm beer and tequila whilst eating spam snacks(big mess).

So my daughter went off to the Dells to do Jeep racing wih her dad,and I went out to find a job in the middle of a recession.Thursday morning my dad informs of the clusterfuck taking place in this country because supposedly a flock'o terriorists in England decided to do a little wet work on some British planes.Okay, I hate terriorism more than a hate cleaning vomit off my kitchen floor,but is confiscating snow globes and suppositories needed.Some poor man,this I swear is true had to throw away his suppositories because the morons at the gate thought they were deadly explosives.The man has cancer,and canot take his medication orally,hence the suppositories.As for snow globes;WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THINKING!!!!

The evening I graduated from USD,as the national anthem was played ,several professors and student refused to stand.I stood,and even put my hand on my heart.The goverments money helped finace my degreeI hope to work in a non-profit and t ry to continue to serve my country .However,presently I can now see why some faculty and students refused to acknowledge the flag and anthem.As it stands now,I fear my president and his adminstration.I continue to pray for all of them that they get a clue and shut down this horrendous war.But I fear my goverment because of it's obsession with discord and promoting hysteria.The country is tumbling into a economic blackhole,schools canot afford to bus their students because of fuel costs,and the national deficit is in another universe.This is all solved by not buying snow-globes and taking other people' suppositories.

All I can say is vote in November.
peace

sliding into home

2006-08-06T10:58:00.000-07:00

Well,the girl made itI recieved my Master's degree this past Thursday night.It was hotter than Billy-be-damned(as my mother would say)but I was there,complete with kids.So,where is the gratitude?Well here it is,the long list of folks that helped me do this.

Jon Barnes(male prostitute)-my tutor for technical theatre and special connubial friend(he has this tongue action ,you know?) love you.
Jason Murray-a excellent tutor and comrade in arms in the English dept.
South Dakota Highway Patrol- for making sure I was okay after the traumatic almost-went off-the-road-in icestorm.your sweet.
Total Stop-for letting me charge gas to get to Vermillion
Terry Ross- who told me that quitting wasn't an option
Tom Sheeley(Eeyore)-who told me that I was the toughest bitch he had met,and stop whining.
Tasha,Ciaran-for making sure the house had not burned to the ground,the horse were fed(along with possum)and that the aliens spacecraft remained in the barn, away from goverment offcials and the U.N.
Art War Bonnet-for giving me a refrance on my aplication,knowing that I was still trying to shake the jones.
Deb Klebanoff-ditto
the staff at the Pump n' Pack in Viborg-you know who you are
my parents-for putting up withthe madness for 3 YEARS!!
Darrin- in the Scene Shop, you always made me smile honey,especially on the first day when I was pretty scared.Thanks for the coffee.
Andrew-a grad student and rigger who taught me the old ways still apply(get the fucker up!) and that to be in rigging and tech theatre one dose not need a penis.
HIGHER POWER-yeah,baby, you know who YOU are.thank you.
B102.7-Rock station in Sioux Falls that kept me awake with Iron Maiden and Ozzy,coming back from school late at night.Good weather reports too.
Del-I miss you honey,but i know you were there Thursday night.Peace
Sylvia-You told me that I had guts and talent,and to ignore Eric.
Anthony Glynn-I kept my promise babe.Rest in Peace,I love you
The party is today... thinking of you all!

what I know

2006-06-20T21:21:00.000-07:00

The test came back as a minor lesion inside the inner workings of my vagina(mine,not yours)so it is back to the Surgery Ctr. to be put on a table and be given fabu drugs and a nice nap at my insurance company' s expense.They are going to be pissed,but hey,I paid my premuim,so there.

Within this whole fiasco,I have realized some things.who my friends are,what it like to be ill and on a fixed income ,and about love.Specifically about the love of my higher power,for me,God.
If you are reading and say,"Hey, aren't you the one screaming about organized religion and corruption and stupidity and the subjegation of your gender etc?"Well,yeah your right.Organized religion isn't perfect because it's made by people.God's love is perfect.Now,I am not writing this because I plan to eat a bullet soon,or join a convent.A friend of mine several years ago who is Lakota told me that his Native American religion believes we are all connected;hence the love thy neighbor commandment.Also the other commandments that say don't kill or steal or act like an idiot.Our actions affect others,whether it is helping someone with their groceries or declaring an illigal war.

It is very complicated,but simple as well, at times it makes my head hurt, which is why I am a Fine Arts major..And there are actual wise and caring holy men and women out there of all faiths that don't put there agenda first.Some of them even died for their faith,sad but true.What I know is that I asked for strength and recieved it,I asked for mercy and recieved it,I asked for hope,and recieved it.God is alive.Pass on the Good News!

just a little pin prick.....

2006-06-11T20:13:00.000-07:00

So tomorrow morning bright and early the Miss Kitty will clean herself real good and throw food to various animals including her trusty horse and then climb into the Kitty Kar for a very fun day in Sioux Falls.No,I am not going to that really cool film at the Cinedome about Australia or look for the Vagina Rock at Falls Park,I am getting a biopsy and maybe photo's of my vagina.
My vagina, and not yours.
So,the Pap test came back weird and the doctor said;hey Terri,we need to stick some shiny metal objects up there and take a biopsy in case that carcinoma(cancer)came back.Because if you ignore it,lady,you could have a real fucking problem(death)and a problem fucking.
If anyone is reading this and is female,ask yourself when you had a Pap test.I did,5 years ago,and it came back I stage 4 carcinoma-in-situ,meaning the cancer was located on my cervix.The next step was invasive cancer to my lymphnodes and I would be really short of time living wise.
To say I am not scared would be lying.Tomorrow for some is just another day for some,for me I feel like a defendent in the trial for my life.
I know that there are people worse off than myself,I am lucky to have the support I do have with my family and friends.After railing against organized religion I feel like a fool praying to God for courage,not fabulous test results,just courage to walk into that room and not start screaming because of the fear.
But I will pray,I have no choice.God still lives.
peace.

Apartheid; South Dakota style

2006-06-04T10:32:00.000-07:00

So two posts so soon;well darlings something happened and Miss Kitty has got her back up.And just let watch the fur fly.

Yesterday afternoon, as Miss Kitty was returning from a dirty week-end in Sioux Falls,she spotted a van on the interstate.Standing next to the van were two women.I pulled over and one of the women stated that they had a flat tire,and needed a jack.I offerd my jack,but as luck would have it,the fucking thing was rusted and stuck (note to self;buy one tomorrow) in the spare tire thingy.The younger woman asked me to give her husband and brother a lift to a service station in my part of the world so they could purchase a jack.The women wished to stay with their children.Cool.
So we set out for a very well-known, South Dakota owned service station(there are several of them East River)I assure the guys that they will be helped out,and that there won't be any hassle.When we arrive at our destination however;things change fast.My passengers get out of my car and are met my glares and stony silence.I go up to the attendent and say that I need to get home myself(my son has pressing baseball issues)and that I am trying to help these folks out.
Now, what happened after I dropped these two people off hopefully improved.BUT THE INTIAL REACTION TO THESE MEN WAS DISGUSTING.I am so fucking sick and tired of the way minorties are treated in this state.If this was Western Maryland you racist pricks,your fat farmer's ass would be up before a civil rights court in Annapolis. If it was Baltimore City you would be in traction.

How more backward does the state of South Dakota have to go?Hey, how about noon-time Klan meetings down at Falls park?Or better yet,Pierre.While your taking away a woman's control of her body and future,how about bringing back slavery.Keep everyone in their place.The powers that be should be so ashamed of their hubris and ignorance towards women and people of color in this state;but I believe they are beyond shame,or reconciling their hatred of minorties.A nationally accredited human rights organization has South Dakota listed as one of the most conservative states for promoting gender and gay rights.But this is Sunday,and those self-same inviduals that treated these men of color so rudely are probably in church.Singing "Jesus loves m e, this I know".And that makes it okay, I guess.

bittersweet afternoon

2006-06-02T11:59:00.000-07:00

Within all lives there are moments of joy, sorrow and just plain lunacy.What happened at Pimlico with Barbaro was a mixture of all three.While the world watched;a animal of incredible beauty struggled to stay upright.Women an men both wept at the railside ofPimlico ,and begged for the horse's life to be spared.

The reaction about his injury has been felt across the nation if not the world.Some are outraged that these horses are subjected to this sport others are dismissing it has"thats horse racing,bad shit happens.'But the overall reaction has been sympathy and compassion for the horse and his connections.

In reality,things are now in the world of wacky concerning his recovery.At the equine hostipal where he is at,there is now an e-mail account for the horse,because the hostipal was being bombarded with e-mails for him.There is mental image of the horse checking his e-mails;hooves on the keys, tapping softly in reply.There are web-sites about the horse.People have sent so many horse treats (apples,carrots, suger cubes, pears, and one pineapple)that the hostipal staff are giving it to the other ponies,horses, and donkey's that are on the same Intensive Care floor of Barbaro.There are candles(not in the hostipal barn), incense, stuffed animals, religious figurines(including a large stone Buddha) and holy water in little containers fron Lourdes.One security officer from the hostipal said to reporters that 'It's like the king is here.People are driving up and down the road,waiting to see the horse".CBS and FOX both ran Special Reports about his health,and the fact that he came outside to eat some grass.The horse had no comment on the dance of looniness that was taking place,but he did pee.

So,within all the carnage and pain that this nation has been through,we still, albeit in a rather manic way, can care about about the suffering of an innocent, beautiful animal.His pain is perhaps a reflection of our own;when we pray for his recovery we acknowledge our own humanity as a people and as a nation.
Peace

nice guy's finish first

2006-05-15T20:47:00.000-07:00

Really catchy title, but I am mentally wiped from school,so I my creative juices are not flowing as they should.Sounds like a personal problem to me;hopefully to be solved by an infusion of tequila and wheat thins.

So the mother of all horse races was run last last week-end, a.ka, THE KENTUCKY DERBY.So, instead of spouting more leftist ,commie shit; I am going to talk about an elitist sport that makes animals run real fast.Horse racing.I love it.Yes, tell the truth,Miss Kitty Love, you groove on horse racing.The beauty, the speed and excitement.And a noteable exacta cashed in at Pimlico several years ago helped pay for a semester at the University of Maryland.Love it when my ponies follow my hunch.

Anyway,the man that trained the winner,Barbaro,is someone that I grew up around.Micheal Matz,showed on the circiut I did.Except he was an Olympic rider and I was some snot-nosed junior cruising around on manic-depressive chestnut mare.But, even back then, he was courteous and to those of us who watched him warm up before his class and he treated his horses well.When I heard that he rescued 5 people including an infant from the United Airlines crash in Sioux City, it did not surprise me.If you saw Mike when I saw him, in the do -me -now eighties, fuck the rules and full steam ahead, you would see a man that was sensitive, fun, and compassionate;showjumping is not known for these things,believe me.I got out of the sport because of some practices concerning the horses sickened me.

Micheal is a gentlman;and in a age where that word is usually attached to 'club', it has lost some of it's meaning.He is the last of the breed.
So,from, the great Midwest I wish him well this coming Saturday in Maryland.I will be waving a Maryland flag and drinking a Black-Eyed Susan.And cheering a fellow competitor;a toast to you Micheal and that lovely bay colt.The both of you are class personifiedMay it be Barbaro by a dozen lengths, and a new track record at Old Hilltop.
Peace.

fill er' up

2006-05-03T09:01:00.000-07:00

This will be mercifully brief.I check daily to see if there is anything actually being done about the gas prices .Being done does not mean getting laid ;it means if the powers that be in Washington(which is beginning to feel like the fabled city of Oz)are doing something about the high prices at th pump.

Now, surprise, surprise, one of South Dakota's senators (John Thune) actually tried to introduce legislation to solve this mess, but he was told to sit in the corner, and shut up.It really shocked me that the Clark Kent of the Senate tried to do something that helped the rest of us hapless bastards, and I take my hat off to him.Stephanie Herseth, who voted happily for drilling in the Arctic region is obviously confused regarding her party affliation, so she is not getting Miss Kitty's vote come November.And that is the way it needs to be;if your representive or Senator can't seem to find their ass in a well- lit room, do not vote for them again.This year will help define our nation as either spineless bastards or a people that actually give a damn about our country's future.

sit still

2006-04-30T10:34:00.000-07:00

Yes, I have been busy doing other things, school, kids and sundry Christian goodworks and all.But I stil try to make time to not just observe, but comment as well.So many topics now, and so little bitching time; what is a girl to do.

A good friend of mine has a blog commenting on the draconian laws concernng women's reprouductive health here in South Dakota(state motto;If you have a vagina, don't bother to vote)so I will take up a another topic concerning women's health;i.e. domestic violence.

Now, very recently a cranked out motherfucker killed his wife and 2 year old son.For a number of years said asswipe walked the floor with his wife and threatened her familyShe went to a domestic violence shelter several times, but obviously that did not help.

In Febuary of this year a man in Pierre killed his wife because she wanted a divorce.In January this year a gay woman killed another gay woman over major jealously issues.

Another man tried to kill his two young sons in Sioux Falls through carbon monoxide poisoning, and another tweeked out freak killed his 8 year old niece.

What I am rying to say is that the governor of this state needs to grow a pair and realize that family values are not about keeping Leslie Unruh in business.THERE ARE PEOPLE DYING BECAUSE OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE IN THIS STATE.Family values means funding and supporting more domestic violence shelters, teaching in teen - health class that hitting, kicking, and rape, does not equal love. Self- esteem for young men and women would be emphasized in a relationship, instead of shame and fear.And most importantly stop using the Bible to subjegate women and children.One reason I have major reservations concerning Chritianity is that it is used to justify terrible things,like slapping your wife around or your kids. Women stay in fucked up marriages because their pastors tell them to! There is actual palatable disgust rising in my gorge when I hear how concerned the legislators are with the exploitation of women in this state.Go on, tell the truth and be done with it;as women needing personal safety in this state, we rate less than cattle or sheep.Do you realize Mr Rounds that the Center for Disease Control lists domestic violence as a major kiler of women in the United States?That the state is way over it's quota for dead women and children this year, and it was all preventable.

So, if someone from my state goverment chooses to read this, think about those Sunday school family values you like so much.Then pray that your sister's boyfriend doesn't decide to teach her a lesson because dinner wasn't done on time.

are those real?

2006-03-31T21:55:00.000-08:00

Referring to one's eyes, one's shoes, or one's breasts.Yes, neighbors, it is springtime in South Dakota, and with dove hunting there is Junior Prom.My lovely daughter Natasha as i am writing this is trying out this right of passage hopefully with the use of a Lifestyles condom.

THe preperation for this has been equal to the landing at Normandy.For months she has saved for a gown, gone to a tanning salon(she is not just white, she is clear), and plotted and planned the perfect Prom experience.But alas, life being fickel, throws a curve.The boyfriend, who lives in Rapid City, was arested for theft.He cannot leave his county said the parole officer.She needs a date; yours truly went about interviewng young men at the U to escort(not screw) my daughter.
Also, as of last night, breasts of a suitable size(false ones) had not been found.My daughter asked me to come into her room and see how the newly fitted gown looked on her.Well, the size double D falsies made her look her like a trailer park maven from western Missouri.

Tonight,suitable tits having been found, she walked through the gym for Grand March(newly found escort blushing red) looking well, radient.I thought of crazy things like her conception on a bus full of road crew on the Pennsylvania Turnpike.
I thought of poverty and food stamps and hoping someday it would get better.It almost has.
I thought of want and need and being told by some motherfucker at Welfare that because of her parentage, she would be a dropout by 15.Well, bitch, she has been accepted to a pre-med program at 17 , so there.
I thought how fucking glad I am with my disposable camera, watching this , watching this.

Master's of the Universe

2006-03-25T10:51:00.000-08:00

NO, this is not about wrestling;it could be, but it's not.My knowledge of wrestling is very limited, and it is all gleaned from the 1970's, when they still wore tights for their matches.And no girls allowed;very misogynstic.IT ABOUT POWER AND CONTROL.

Some people have the need to exert their power/control issues over others even they are over a 1000 miles away.Which goes beyond the sad ,pathetic realm to the outright fucking crazy.I want my life back, for the love of the god's, I want to be free.And if I need to achieve this by jumping into a river, I will.(i am kidding, I am so fluffy I would float).
I was told this by a runaway stagehand;
1. You cannot talk to Jon.
2.Do not go shopping for furniture.
3.Do not ask about me, I am hunting wabbit's in Missouri.
4.If you go shopping for furniture,I will get a restraining order.
5.I can't get laid in Missouri
6.Your angry because you want to be in Missouri.
7.Jon cannot talk to anyone at the Pavillion.

Well, I reckon I got off light, istead of ten commanments, I only have seven.
Can someone out there in Blogland tell me what to do?Or is this too fucking crazy for anyone.
Also, this person has friends who are asking me where he is, what is going on,so as a service to union members that can read, here it is
THOMAS MARK SHEELEY IS IN THE STATE OF MISSOURI
THOMAS MARK SHEELEY IS IN THE STATE OF MISSOURI
MISSOURI IS In THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
MISSOURI
MISSOURI
MISSOURI
HE IS TRYING TO FIND HIMSELF IN MISSOURI, OR PLAY WITH HIMSELF,WHICHEVER COMES FIRST.
There it is; I finally went fucking nuts myself.Nice knowing you.

running in circles

2006-03-18T10:26:00.000-08:00

The young horse comes into the roundpen, it's body already coated with sweat, it's a lovely bay colt, with black points, high headed and scared.It starts out at a trot, but changes gears, and starts to gallop.I stand there in the center, nothing in my hands , not even a whip to guide him, wanting only one thing;for the colt to stop running, face me, with ears forward.The colt changes direction,performing a pivot that would be the envy of any reining champion.He slows,but the sweat is a white froth on his neck,his chest and haunches.I folow his movements with only my eyes, knowing that this is the one, the fabled good horse that every owner looks for to fufill some loony destiny.i wipe sweat from my face, it's hot, and I don't want the horse to colic, get sick from the heat,I might just open the gate, and let him go back to his pasture.He swings his head down toward the ground;and there is a slowin of movement, almost , yes, come on baby, then he stops.He is breathing hard,but he turns those fox ears towards me, and the tiny savage head follows.I walk up to him ,lesson over.

I have a friend that was arrested in my great state forDUI, possession, and reckless driving.Nothing half-assed about this dude.He split for Missouri last month, thinking things will be better there, that things willl be differant.I mentioned to him last week that law enforcerment in Missouri tend to be humorless bastards when it came to DUI arrest, South Dakota is criminally lenient on drunk driving enforcement. In Missouri,(speaking from experince)the cops could benefit from a moment with Dr.Phil, or a good blowjob.
He informed me that things are going to be differant, that he wasn't a drunk, that he knows for a fact that being in a differant state everything is going to be jus' fine, thank you.He also said that it was the Highway Patrol's shear meanness that caused his arrest, not his drinking. I love drunks because they pass on the blame so fucking well to the other guy,or a passing dog if there are no people around.Someday I want to get fucked up and take a shit in my local mall and blame it on Dick Cheney.PLese can I?
He's running, like that colt 8 years ago,like me not long ago.He believes that if you just keep moving , one can escape the problem(with my colt's case, it was me) but the problem is waiting when one arrives.He needs to turn and face it,and solve it; whatever it is.So as a friend, I can only watch this with a mixture of sorrow, and grim curiosity akin to watching a train wreck.And I pray.

tell me lies

2006-01-31T14:17:00.000-08:00

The phone, that erstwhile enemy sitting on my kitchen counter, rang the other night.So I picked it up and it was my good friend a bill collector; from Minnesota actually.He did not waste any time telling me that I was A VERY BAD PERSON for not paying on a bill that was over 8 years overdue.Supposedly ,I had a loan from a bank that I took out 8 years ago.

Now, I do some things in a blackout, but this invidual accused me of taking a loan out almost a decade ago from a bank in Ireland.Now, whilst I was living there, I did not own any property, I was a foreign national, I was a single parent and I worked a part time job.Great credit risk right?
He proceeded to tell me he was spitting on my husbands grave as was I , because I was a deadbeat.Nice Guy.

Real simple collecting rules in South Dakota because we are real simple folks.
1.You cannot collect a debt that is 6 years old or older.
2.You cannot harass or scare the invidual owing the debt.
3.you can't call before 7 a.m. or after 10 p.m
4,yoy can't tell another person about the inviduals' debt.(he called my father the next day and did this)
5.you can't seize the invidual 's social security payment to pay the debt.

big thanks to the good folks inPierre, South Dakota, at Consumer Protection.I am glad that this state has some backbone concerning the rights of others.As for bill collector man, ask your sister to suck your balls.

silence is golden

2006-01-11T18:30:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I know it's been a while that I blogged;however, I 've been trying to maintain a reasonable GPA at the U and keep the world safe for democracy.Also I am making sure that my lovely daughter takes her pills that keep me from becoming a grandmother

So it looks like Thomas Alito is going to recieve the nomination to the Supreme Court.Never mind that in the past he legally supported the decision to have a 10 year old girl strip searched and belonged to an organization while at Princeton that took issue with people of color wanting civil rights,he's the man for the job apparently,so let's stick our heads in the sand even deeper and grab your cocks(if one has one to grab).Meanwhile, this lady is going to make damn sure that my daughter can get access to contraception, and that intelligent design isn't taught in my son's classroom. The world is round, dinosaurs were not Jesus horses, and eating pussy is not tantamount to murder(unless you do it badly, in which case, practice on a friend).

The thing that really get's me going is how docile people are regarding the shellgame that's being played in Washington , for generations we are going to be paying for this clusterfuck in Iraq, the deficit is more out of control than my libido and and the Jesus Jumpers are trying to turn back Western Civilization as we know it. Look at the end of previous paragraph;these are the hallmarks of our civilization(and pork rinds).

So fuck this shit I say, as I call my Senator's(one of whom is a Jesus Jumper) and my Representative.I take the time to say how I feel about upcoming legistlation, and sometimes they listen.Silence is golden only in a movie theatre and the bathroom.Say what you mean and stop bitching.

on the playground

2005-10-22T20:53:00.000-07:00

Yes it's been a long time from since I last sat here and did the contemplative thing of blogging.I am back at school, and my tiny little mind is trying to absorb knowledge, so that I can work at Krispy Kreme for the ten years.Joke, joke, come on you bastards, laugh.
Anyway, my daughter has been very sick, so that makes me more distracted than I AM NORMALLY.Shiny, pretty, wow, and I am gone.She has mono, and now she has hepititis, not the nasty kind one gets from a dirty rig or a man that don't wash his johnson.This is a result of the mono virus dumping toxins into the liver.It becomes enlarged; and hey presto, my red haird daughter is now yellow with jaundice.
But the good news is for once the system worked;she is in Medcaid; health insurance for the poor, and the doctor's who attended her treated her with dignity and a level of care befiting her royalty.No one throughout this ordeal criticized me for not having a real job, or played at he single parent guilt trip on me.In fact, when I requested test to be run on my daughter, the doctor's listened to me and agreed to do them, sparing no expense.
The nation as we know it now is in a period of darkness.The amount polarization that exists throughout the United States is personally frighnting to me.It is relief to know that in some parts of this country my daughter and I are still equal citizens worthy of quality health care.
Peace.

ring, ring

2005-09-10T10:22:00.000-07:00

My son is a huge fan of Yugio, the Asian cartoon series that run's on the WB in the afternoon.He also has a friend that is, and there is a story here.My son's friend supposdley gave him a comic book of Yugio cartoon's this past winter; I came to find out that there is a mountain in this molehill.
Two weeks ago my son came up to my room very upset, apparently his friends mother called him on the phone and threatened him and myself if this comic book wasn't returned posthaste.I called his mother and told her I would be wiling to repay the price of the book, when I was paid, on the 10th, she said fine.
Three days ago at my son's school , my son's informed him that his mother and her family were either going to call the sheriff on me or collectivly come over and kick my ass.That night I called her home and she accused my son and I of stealing things from her home 9 months ago, and that she would call the sheriff.I told her too do so.
The next day I called the sheriff and came to find out that she had been arrested in the past for drunk and disorderly.Big surprise, based on the threatning phone calls(to a minor)the crazy accusations, the erratic behavior etc.
In the past I have written blogs about how I am really fucking tired of peoples' usin' behavior destroying other's lives.This is in the same vein.This past week I have recieved 5 phone calls from someone that was under the infleuence.This invidual 2 weeks ago was in the locked ward of a mental hostipal under a suicide watch.He had being doing crank, cocaine, and alcohol and decided to hang himself.He was told by the hostipal not do this anymore.But he is.
As you may gather I do care about people, and how things work out for them.However, addicts and drunks have this unique ability to fuck up their lives on their own.Then blame others.Last month, Tom(yes we have talked) blamed me for his drinking/usin' problems.He informed me that I caused him to drink.I have these powers.....
I have thankfully have reached the point where I don't by this shit anymore, the scary thing is that there plenty of people(spineless girlfriends, parents that blame themselves) out there.I have reached a saturation point of bullshit with drunks and addicts, go ahead , smoke a foil or drink a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon, but leave me and my family alone.

and we watched....

2005-09-03T10:05:00.000-07:00

So you have surmised by now that Led Zepplin does have some historic value..I am speaking of course of what has happened, and is still is happening in New Orleans and the Gulf Coast.Well there was this hurricane, and it flooded a internationally recongnized city that and in the past had been a cultural flagship of the South.For all intentent purposes New Orleans is gone.

As a citizen of this country I am appalled and disapointed by the action/inaction of the Bush adminstration; what has transpired within this week amounts to genocide of the poor and people of color.The adminstration was aware that a class 5 huricane would be the ultimate detruction of New Orleans.FEMA and its adminstrators are also guilty of letting these people die,thats right fellow Americans, our goverment let these people die.The current adminstration will be recorded in our nation's history as one that let it own citizen's die by starvation and dehydration and lack of medical care. Remember this moment next 4th of July when your grilling hot dogs and drinking beer.
As a citizen of this country I am calling for the impeachment of my President and his adminstration.Our goverment has a left all of us to twist in the wind.

moths and flame

2005-08-24T20:34:00.000-07:00

My kids went back to school today, so the silence in my house was celebrated by me running around the house in the nude, screamig and laughing like a crazy person.My dog thought this great fun,but he wasn't naked, because he has fur.Joe the stylin' Dog.
My son come home to inform me that he wishes to play the trombone, and Tasha informed me that she wants to be a counselor at a domestic violence shelter and use music therapy to help people.Then there is me; I want to be a tree, after that a platypus

I called a friend last night and told him to remind me why I left Tom, he left several reasons on my voice mail.My other stagehand buddy from Omaha nearly had a heart attack when i told him what I was considering; "Dear Christ, Terri, haven't you had enough pain?"Enough said on that subject.
I am happy though that I was able to tell him I loved him, it felt freeing, I felt like i had some closure, and I can go forward now.After Del died I felt like there were too many things that had gone unsaid, I had to acknowledge where I had been; had being the key word.
Peace

the big top

2005-08-11T10:59:00.000-07:00

A prouduction is going to be opening in a matter of hours .This particuler prouduction is affliated through my theatre company,New Moon Theatre.In a very short amount of time a area playwright will see the results of his labors at the keyboard.And the craziness has started;

1.Former boyfriend announces he is having problems, and needs help, read. intervention RIGHT NOW!!!!
2.The horse broke out of his pen, broke into my house, and was eating potato chips with Joe The Dog .Yes, both of them happily munching away while I was at dress rehearsal.
3.My mother is obsessing about divorcing my father; she has been doing this for 6 years.
4.a drunken rigger(who loves kitty?) called me three times on my cell informing me that he is thinking about me, baby.
As I told my dad, I could be on Broadway and these things could be happening.The horse would need an intervention,the former boyfriend could be on my floor eating potato chips, and the drunken rigger could be obsessing about a divorce.
Break a leg.

swim ,for jon

2005-08-05T20:42:00.000-07:00

Swim

she jumped in to the water

her skin suddenly alive to his touch
she swam

close the door

2005-08-05T20:32:00.000-07:00

shut it out

if i can
i will
shut
that part of me that saw you
laughing
at my tears
and sent me away
into the night
to suffer on my own;
your words were like whips
held in check when others
were around

it was a mystery to them
why
i
feared
you.

i walk away now
i hear laughter that is
my own
my own
my own

Hello,Mr.Lee

2005-08-01T17:34:00.000-07:00

I managed to get through the viewing;with my 10 year old son and Duncan in attendence.The weather being very warm, I chose to wear a black and white sundress, with black mules.Duncan was dressed in solid black, and looked eerily like David Byrne of the Talking Heads.Arriving late I met him at the funeral home.He informed me that people thought he worked there....
So I saw my friend for the last time,until it is my turn to exit stage right(knowing me i will get the blocking wrong).He looked awesome and peaceful, and I envied him.The thing that I found overwhelming was the amount of grief i felt, I felt as though my heart was turning to dust as I stood sobbing in front of his casket.He and I had partied together, gone on ghost hunts together, he marched my ass around the surgical ward after my hysterectomy and had put up with a lot of shit on my behalf.Del's five year old niece was sobbing and my son comforted her,and got her to to sit down in the lobby , where they both commenced to eat a bowl of sweets.
I called my daughter today and told her, making sure her daddy was there in the room with her.She took it as well as can be expected;she remember's Del picking her up from school, coming to her birthday parties etc.She cried and asked her Wiccan daddy to light a candle for Del,he said damn straight he would.Never take your friends for granted.

So, later that night asI was trying to relax, my landline rang and it was a person I knew from school and elsewhere and we started the babbling one does when you don't hear from someone for 18 months.He was returning to Vermillion, high and dry as they say, and hoped to graduate in the spring.
I told him that all the right people were talking about my writing and certain advisors were advising me to go into a docterate program next year.Mmmmm, said the friend , there is only one problem;you lose your focus to easily.
'What do you mean I lose my focus?I have stuck with school this far.Poppycock, hogwash".I said.
He went onto explain that I seem to feel the need to date/fuckaround ad nauseum to prove to myself/others that everything is fine and fuckin' dandy. When in reality, I needed a break from the Search for Mr.Goodbar.
'Terri, you need to pretend that Tommy Lee is on your futon , stroking his cock , rubbing his balls, and saying 'Come on, honey, how about some suger?Then you need to say , no, Tommy, I have a rigging final to get ready for(or I have to write a play,prepare my dissertation or sleep) and send that rocker on his way".
I started laughing, turned quickly around to see if Mr.Lee was on my futon(he wasn't)and I said"Could it please be Steve Tyler, on my futon, rubbing his cock etc.PLease, PLEASE."
No, Terri , he said, you need to focus on you.

brain eating zombies from planet Xenon

2005-07-30T11:20:00.000-07:00

Well today's activity is dealing with the logistics of attending a viewing of a friend of mine that died Friday.I am going to be taking my son, who is 10 and fairly close to the deceased with me.But I also plan on having coffee with a lover of mine after the viewing.This is where things get messy.I informed a friend what had happened,and here comes the shitstorm.
Said friend was less than pleased that a certain invidual was going to be there(at the viewing) and Miss T bore the brunt of his displeasure.Mind you, this is one hour after our good lady found out her friend had died.Thank's for the sympathy.She was accused of various UN -AMERICAN activities that seemed pulled from old Penthouse issues.
Now, let's see the real facts..MissT has said to said friend/lover several times that she does not want a commited relationship.She is not ready for a committed relationship.OH BUT WHY NOT;
1)Our good lady is still on the rebound from a Really fucked up relatiionship.
2)USD is taking up alot of Miss Thang's time and energy.
3)I DON'T FEEL LIKE COMMITTING TO ANYONE AT THIS TIME.why? JUST BECAUSE .(reverting back to a 8 year old's answer)
Now my Southern mama always told her little girl that honesty was the best policy.Alway's , she said you need and should be honest Terriwinkle(my childhood nickname).However, there are folks out there that have a unique ability to tune out the truth, even when they are in handcuff's or standing on the gallow's.This is a mystery to me; what does it take for someone to see the writing on the wall.
1)the bus has left
2)the test is positive
3)it is raining
4)I am an addict
These are examples of absolute truth.So I am very baffled as to why some people do not understand me when I tell them what is going on.I have a sense of frustration in having to repetez s'il vous plas ad nauseum.I feel like I have failed them somehow because I can't/won't be what they want me to be.Then I feel depressed, and guilty and then I just spiral down into a unfun( read, lets use smack) place.
My late departed friend honored me not only with his friendship but advice as well.He like several other people in my life were deeply concerned about my welfare and safety.He confronted Tom about his behavior (unlike someone else I know) and barked at him hard enough to put the fear of Sonny Jesus into Eeyore's burntout brain.His last wish was for my happiness, he told a mutual friend last week that I deserved to be happy, after what I had been through.The friend, Brian, agreed that seemed somewhat elusive for me, but it might just happen yet.
The real meaning of friendship is not the fucking Hallmark card version.Friendship and love are based on love, trust, truth and respect.The bad version of friendship is having your heart and soul being eaten by a zombie.
Peace, Del wherever you are.THis lady will honor your memory by doing what is best for her and her kids.When I graduate I will remember it was you that drove to USD with me that Febuary afternoon, and helped me fill out the application, listening to my whining about how I won't be accepted, but I was, wasn't I ?I need at this time to know and understand these absolute truth's;
I will not go back to TOM.
I will fight my own corner now
I will not forget how I was treated, but I can forgive.
Dukes of Hazzard is a cinema miracle; worthy of the Palm D'orr at Cannes
Don't worry Del, I will not fail.

Goose Girl

2005-07-25T17:58:00.000-07:00

My daughter would be mortified to know that her father and I refer to our progeny as BaBa or Goose Girl;it was a term that was started when we lived in Maryland, a Southern thing really, naming people after livestock is not that uncommon down there.
She was born with a shock of red hair that stood up like a clowns wig.Considering my lover was Latino, her pale complexion was quite a shock; some of the nursing staff at the delivary had a giggle over her apperence in contrast to her father's dark hair and olive skin.When we brought her home she nursed, slept, pooped, and bellowed.Little has changed 16 years later.
My daughter just recently got back from Maryland, and one of her dad's friends told her that as a young mother way back when, I was devoted to her.Jungle said he remembers me breasfeeding her on my break at the theatre, sitting on the loading dock, I vaguely remember it myself, one of the crew made a smart ass comment about Tasha not having to wait for fucking catering to arrive; I remember thinking that I was glad to spend some part of my day with Goose Girl.
The name came from my friend Bobby, he said when she cried it sounded like a goose calling.And as anyone knows in theatre; once you have a nickname, it stays.
So what am I writing about?Well, I miss my daughter, just like I did when I hung lights and waited for my break so I could steal time with her on the loading dock;the stagehands would smoke Pall Malls and play poker,a dog would be knocking over a garbage can looking for food, and I looked at this delightful creature that was attached to me, until the crew chief told us to get back to work.Sadly I would detach her from my breast , would button my shirt and walk to the lobby, my mother would put on the pink sunbonnet on her frizzy redhair and take her back home for her afternoon nap.
I miss my girl.

the brown icee

2005-07-23T14:45:00.000-07:00

Today is one of the hottest days and it brought to mind several things that can go very wrong, very fast ,if one does not drink water and stay in the shade in the midst of a heat wave.So, in keeping with Miss T's public service announcments of telling you all to put the condom on your John Thomas and remember your towels when all else is fucked,here are some more obvious tips;
Remember to drink 8 ozs. of water every 3o minutes
Abstain from booze; it is a dierutic- it makes you piss more
IF YOU START TO FEEL DIZZY OR NAUSATED SIT DOWN, OR LAY DOWN IN THE SHADE.THIS IS THE START OF HEAT STROKE.
My own tale of heat stroke oes something like this.Years ago when I was in Maryland, I chose to run in a 10k race in southern Virginia.I had trained, had been training in for the distance and the weather conditions(hot and humid).So, the race started, I felt fine, in fact my splits were picking up as we turned for home on the wooded, shaded course.However, by the last mile something happened.I started to feel dizzy, and I had a pounding head-ache, .By the last quarter, as a I tried to start my kick, it felt as though i was trying to breathe through rubber.Houston, we have a problem,I thought as my vision blurred and I stumbled/ran past one of the gals from Penn State.My then husband J.C. caught me as I crossed the finish line, because everything went black and I was Alice and it was down the rabbit hole I went.
I woke up in a air conditioned tent, my husband and a medic spraying ice water on me and a nurse putting ice packs on my neck and groin.The medic was starting a i.v. on me and I was shaking .I closed my eyes and heard him say"Ice in her rectum".This caught my attention, and I opened my eyes.Apparently in order to cool me down faster; they were going to put ice up my rectum.Well, why not?There was the after party with the road crew of this metal band I had worked with, some things happened.....Ice up my ass, wow.
Now, as we all know by I can and will kink for some , but ice in my ass is not a pleasent thought.
My husband explained to me that this was going to happen , unless I cooled down real soon, they were going to insert ice chips up there, I had severe heat stroke and they were not fucking around.
I thought of Minnesota in the middle of January, of Duluth in December etc.My temp. went from 105 to 102 slowly to 99.
I still felt woozy, but they let me go sans a brown icee up my backside.Because I got heat stroke before, I am a little cautious about working/being in the heat.Yesterday, I started to feel dizzy and went into hte nearest air- conditioned building I could find.Get your towel.

lions, tigers and Joe

2005-07-23T11:34:00.000-07:00

I had a midnight visit last night from someone that had a part of my dark and tumultous past.My buddy L. rolled into the farm bearing the movie Hide and Seek, and Dr.Pepper.His Texas manner was barely held in check.Now, as he jumped out of his truck, he yelled out 'Ohh, you look good, give us some suger'.Miss T, being brought up in the South, responded in kind.
Joe the dog of course was there, the late hour not withstanding, he was curious to see what the fuss was about.My friend , who was formerly a professionel wrestler, suddenly got down on his knees and begin fawning over Joe, saying things like'Aren't you just the sweetest , most darling puppy."This was something to see, as said friend is a twice convicted felon, and is still not allowed to go back to Rapid City, ever, ever, ever.But most people change for the better after a jolt of time in a Texas prison, and L. has certainly learned his lesson.
Some of you reading this may think I lead a very fast paced, on the edge lifestyle.Based on some of my past blogs you could correctly assume this.However, my friends , are the ones that keep me in check;L., as we were watching Robert DeNiro's charecter chase people down with a kitchen knife, made the observation that I actually looked good, i.e., tanned, rested, mellow sans cannabis.He knew me when;as the tabloids say, and when he left for Texas 2 and a half years ago, he didn't expect to see me alive again.Or, as he laughingly said, 'Your ass would be in Pierre Woman's prison, wuth some 300 pound dyke sitting on your face".
So yet again it comes back to ones past, and what one chooses to do with their future.L.,however, has always backed this particuler filly to win, not place or show.I have another gentleman(you know who you are bunny boy) that is trying to make it to the betting window before post time to bet two years of his life that this girl might just go wire to wire.
The time came around 4ish forL. to leave and go north.As we said our goodbye's, Joe did the act of the dog that recieves no love or attention, L., responded by whispering sweet redneck sayings to him and rubbing Joe's tummy.
The next part of this touching saga is the part where L. helps our fair maiden redo her bathroom.For those of you that have used my potty, this promises to be quite the adventure.As L. said to me about our upcoming project, 'If I can get off the needle after 10 years of smack, your toilet doesen't faze me".L., as a contractor is the steroid version of Extreme Home Makeovers.Tune in tomorrow, as our mysterious lady Miss. T , goes to Home Depot with a song in her heart and a one hitter in her purse.
Peace.

down the stretch they come

2005-07-22T10:56:00.000-07:00

So I was sitting in for what passes as my flower garden this morning , drinking my coffee, when suddenly a little rain cloud passed over and I burst into tears.What prompted this emotional outburst was a phone call that I had made prior to USD; it was in referance to registering for my Fall classes.I talked to the registers office and business office about payment options , and work study oppurtunities and it suddenly hit me; I am in my final year.
Now a very close friend told me six months ago while I was bouncing on his loins that there would be a point whereI would be on my own I grad school, that I would towards the end of my study, be calling the shots and in charge.There would be no more looking back over my shoulder for approval, no more whining about ex- boyfriends, and that when I walked into that room in April for my my oral exams, it would be a combination of the SuperBowl and the Olympics for me.Any doubt would, will spell failure.
So, friends and neighbors I am telling all of you I am scared shitless of failing; of not measuring up so to speak next April.My immediate family has sacrificed a great deal for me to get this far, I have lost two relationships and maybe a possible third one .I have let friends down because I couldn't be there when major events in their lives took place and I have another dying friend that I try to fit around my schedule to visit him.
My stagehand buddy Stevie out in Baltimore told me recently that everyone from my former union who knew me when things were really crazy,told Stevie they weren't surpised by me.
One of them remembers me working a grueling 18 hour day in the heat ofJuly , tossing decks because I needed money for my infant daughter.Stevie said that I had always been a tenacious bitch, it scared some of the hands because it looked like I would work myself to death to get what I wanted.I did, it got me a security deposit for an apartment.
I don't want to fail, and I don't want to have others hate me for what I need to do to graduate.
Last night, I dropped off a DVD at Tom's place,I also left a application for a stage management position that is coming up.I left a little note in the margin; I want good things for you; that is my only wish, Terri.He was one of the casulties that I had to leave behind in order to get my degree.

SO WHAT?

2005-07-09T21:55:00.000-07:00

This week-end a friend of my father's called his home.The v oice on the phone was in panic mode; she wanted to know if my father could meet her right now in front of a local restaurant.My dad left and three hours later I learned what had happened.Apparently the woman's boyfriend relapsed on crank and decided to hold their 7 month daughter hostage.She contacted the Sheriff's Dept., and they responded by sending two deputies armed with shotguns, with a call to an area Swat team to possibly jump on I-90, and head west.The deputies managed to subdue him, and take the infant.She then told my dad that the boyfriend had been beating her steadily for the past 6 months, because she had gotten a cell phone.
Now, this is not another lecture of Miss Terri's talks to you about the evils of usin'.IT IS ABOUT RESPONSIBILTY.I told a friend last week that I wish I could be fucked up all the time so I could get away with shit.Then after killing a family of 6 after driving drunk, I can start a twelve step program, find Jesus, and everything is OTAY!
I have a very close friend that has been arrested 4 times for DUI,however this invidual does not believe he was at fault.This is where my bullshit meter goes off;South Dakota has one of the most lenient laws concerning DUI'S.There are cases of people with up 30 of them still driving.
When my friend starts his whining aboout the injustice afflicted upon him I remember when I was hit by a drunk driver my senior year in college;I was wheelchair bound for 6 months.Three weeks ago at a camp where I teach, one of the campers was a young woman that was hit head on by a drunk driver; she cannot speak and will be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.
My father's friend is so terrified of her former boyfriend that area law enforcement has advised to leave the state.She has done nothing wrong.But because someone else feels entitled to get fucked up and destroy another person's life; they are addict's or drunks, they can't help it right?
The society we live in today has swung so far to the left that taking personal responsibilty for ones actions is an archiac act unto itself.When we ask others to take some consideration concerning their actions we are told to fuck offJack.
I still think highly of my friend, however, I truly hope he takes the time to consider how his actions affect others.
In my own checkered past I have done things that easily could have physically harmed/endangered others.I stopped doing these things.Peace

my hoo- ha, my friend

2005-07-09T17:50:00.000-07:00

Well today I recieved a phone call regarding a certain gentleman's health problem.No, it wasn't problems regarding anal matters, it was his urethra. He has a urinary tract infection, because he wasn't drinking enough water and his kidney's protested.He informed me that when he pees it is most uncomfortable.Also his doctor informed him if he plan's to have sex, he neEds to use a ondom, so he doesn't pass on the gift of infection
I proceeded to tell him the story of another union stagehand that gave me a urinary tract infection.This invidual was from the world renowned Sioux Falls stagehands union; their motto, FUCK COFFEE, SMOKE THIS SHIT INSTEAD.Anyway, I was informed that if I wished to have sex with a certain donkey, he needed to wear a condom.This is where you need to stop reading and take a deep breath; because what I am about to say is the absolute truth.
The moment arrived when Eros was felt and I pulled out the condom, stil in its little wrapper.The donkey man gazed at me with mild interest, he then asked, "What's that?", I replied it was a rubber, and if he wanted to thrust his man wand into me, he would be wearing it.He then informed me that he didn't know where to put it.Yes, this is true.I told him where it went, and how it was to be put on, he still was puzzled.I then repeated the steps on how to put it on, and after 3 tries, it worked.He was wondering how it was going to stay on, I tried assure him that it didn't need a string or rubberband or duct tape , cable etc., it would be okay.
As I told this story to my new friend from Omaha, he was silent on the phone for a minute, then he said that in his union, they have in-house training on condom use every third month, men and women unwrapping latex to the sound of show- tunes.In all fairness though, I am glad that I am a woman, apparently guys really get slammed pain wise when they have urinary tract infections.And I am also glad that I can still call the shots when it comes to my personal health and well-being.There are people out there catching more than urinary tract infections; my daughters boyfriend told me last month that syphilis was on the rise in his town , with it's sidekick HIV, tagging along for the ride.
When my former boyfriend gave me an infection, it wasn't done with malice, it was ignorance, but that ignorance needs to be overcome so that as a species we don't destroy ourselves.
I LOVE MY HOO- HA.

joe the dog

2005-07-06T21:10:00.000-07:00

As certain people know; I have been selected to be the new partner of a rather effusive Labrador retrieverMy daughter, Tasha of the Third Breast(I will explain this in a another post) chose to name him Joe the Dog.
Joe, since his arrival at my farm in March, has messed the floor, swum in a lake, been kicked by my gelding when he(the horse) was trying to eat.He has swum in a swamp, been attacked by a small housecat(protecting her kittens) , crashed a wedding dance, been arrested for crashing the dance, photographed,(and peeing on a amp, eating the wedding cake, drinking spiked punch and vomiting on the dance floor), been give a post-arrest bath, and driven around in a police car ; to be deposited at my door later the next day.
My friends wish to start a religion based on his principles of simpliciy;eat, pee, walk and walk and pee and sniff for bunnies, crap, walk and walk, run after the bunny, drink out of the ditch, go home, sleep, wag the tail, go out and begin again.The steps are easy to follow and I intend to start tomorrow.I recommend it to all of you.

famous first words

2005-06-30T23:43:00.000-07:00

I decided to add something to chicks for free.This is just going to a few of the famous lines that have been used on me; some I even fell for.Twice I ended up at the alter after hearing these rather extrordinary and unique phrases.But more often than not, I have decided to put the river and myself between the speaker.
If anyone has heard anything similier, please leave a comment.It would help my ego to know that not all the losers are attracted to me.
In the issue of fairness, I have delienated the phrases by regions of the United States and Europe
BEST LINES
Baltimore, Maryland
"I can help you with your lighting plot".
Hagerstown, Maryland
"I couldn't take my eyes off of you".future first husband
Baltimore, Maryland
"I play in a band". I was 16
Dublin, Ireland
"You have a great smile, let's get a pint". future second husband
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
'I am a certified rigger".
Mitchell, South Dakota
"I like horses."
Hagerstown, Maryland
"Here, you can have my duct tape"
London,England
"You don't act like a Yank".
WORST LINES
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
"I have three balls"
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
"I know how to pleasure women"
Salem, South Dakota
"I have been with hundreds of women".
Clondalkin, Ireland
"My penis will bring you great joy".
Leicestershire, England
"I can make you have screaming orginisms". yes, organisms
London, England
"American women all like to fuck".
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
'My cock will fill you".
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
'I have a rabbit".'
There it is; laid bare.
Feel free to comment.

chicks for free

2005-06-28T13:14:00.000-07:00

So I am hanging out at a local bar, trying to have a conversation with someone I actually give a shit about, when some former jarhead starts yapping.He tells me how he was able to get laid every night in the Phillipines.Then he tells me that he paid for the privilidge.Then he called his former wife a bitch.Then he said he couldn't get a date in this town...Mmmm.
This leads me to the subject of what guys get pussy for free ;I mean all joking aside gentlemen, you usually bring it on yourselves when your stroking off on a rainy Wednesday night or your paying for the store-bought poon-tang.
There is a formula that this particuler writer follow's when it is about the cock;what is attached to it does matter.The key ingredient to a prospective lover is their charecter.Nice guys I pay attention to, Billy Bad Ass can stroke off.It doesn't mean someone that is aMr.Rogers clone, but someone that puts the needs of others first occasionally, is kind, patient and doesn't look at my gender as the enemy.Opening dors, pulling out a chair or helping me on with my coat is cool, sugesting we go back to his place light up a 8 ball and watch animal/ human porn is not.
At work today I told a co-worker of mine who is 19, that to get girls, remember how you were raised.Obviously there are times and situations that people come from fucked up homes.A pack of hyenas probably could have parented better.However, most of us know that hitting is bad, bragging about about your penis is strange and weird on a first date and that brushing your teeth and taking a shower before the date is a sensible idea.I have been on first dates where the size of the genitalia is discussed, and the closing statement isI HIT THE BITCH.
So brush up on your manners, put down that copy of Jugs and get a life.Also clean that foreskin,
no one likes crotch cheese.

it just gets better

2005-05-23T15:03:00.000-07:00

Well I could start with the joke about the three cock suckers, but that would be in poor taste....no pun intended folks.I spent the week-end with fellow artists making jewelry and drinking excellent wine.The days were filled with laughter and the nights were filled with song.
But day before I departed for this most excellent of working vacations was a real ass grabber, so totally unfun that next time i may just choose anal rape instead.WHAT HAPPENED TERRI?You are asking this I know you are.Well dumbass went over to the former boyfriends place to drop off some of his things.
Now please understand that I am extemely broadminded when it comes to people , places and things..I have seen/done things that one needs to have a credit card so that on can see it on the Net.In all fairness, I have settled down a bit, but this lady has been around.What I saw was too fuckin' much.
He opened the door after I knocked and I stepped back because I was shocked beyond speech.
His beard, which up to 7 weeks ago was black, was now half gray.His face was to thin, the flesh stretched across it like the flesh on a cadaver.He looked like a concentration camp victim.When he saw me his eyes glittered.He was not happy to see me.I didn't expect him to be .I remember talking to him in a whisper, telling him I was still looking for his things, that i was sorry I couldn't find all his things...There was fear of him mixed with horror of how bad he looked, I had held this man in my arms as a lover and friend , had told him I love him, that I wanted to be his wife and give him one more red haired baby.I would touch him after we made love and he was sleeping to make sure he was still thereand wake up at dawn with happiness and love for him.But things are diferant now, he is back to usin' meth and he is dying.
If anyone reading this sells meth;you fucker are going to HELL.Your are selling death, and deserve what you get in the hereafter.You get to spend time with Hitler, Stalin and other fun charecters.
If someone reading this uses the shit; STOP.If your going to kill yourself ,run out to the intersate, you'll achieve the same result in a shorter period of time,or you can quit this foolishness and live.Real simple
I am crying as I write this because my ex is a beautiful person, and I can't do a damn thing.I saved myself, and my kids but I want to save him; and I can't.
I LOVE YOU TOM, DON'T LEAVE.

HWY 19

2005-05-04T20:54:00.000-07:00

When one gets older, one starts to remember the past more often.My memories of my childhood are quite clear to me but I have diffuculty in remembering if I have clothing on. Or if it is seasonally acceptable( a snowsuit in July for example).
I grew up in central Minnesota on a small farm (cue Little House on the Prairie music)we had horses and dogs and some cattle.My father taught me ride a horse when I was three.It was very simple; he placed me in front of him while he was astride his good Appaloosa mare Skipper, clucked softly and away we went.He taught me how to turn her and always go with the motion, don't fight and you will be okay.Now that I have horses of my own I try to tell my kids the same thing.
They seem to fight the motion more , not letting the horse do the work; I wonder if it is because children now are born in a hyperdrive mode,They can't relax, let it flow, let it happen, let the horse do the work.
My memory is moved by bits of song or a phrase that I haven't heard in a while.Suddenly I am thrown back to the first time that I heard it, and the present seems surreal to me.This is form of time travel that my other friends have experinced as well.I wonder if it has to do with creativity.
I also think about the people I have known in the past, where they are, are they okay or dead or in prison.I try to think happy thoughts for them, some of them oceans away.All of these thoughts swirling in my head on the road back from Vermillion, and I need to find a potty.

mistress of the term paper

2005-05-04T20:25:00.000-07:00

So I am trying to write this term paper in the midst of my family and sundry animals.By my side , next to the computer my dog Joe is on the floor passing gas at intervals annd snoring(probably doesn't like Sylvia Plath).My cat , Grace, is on the computer, her tail curled and she is purring.
Downstairs is where the real fun is.My son is calling his sister a poop monster.My daughter comesback by calling him deficiant.He doesn't know what it means and runs upstairs to ask me.He finds out and races downstairs to call her a heathen.Then the phone rings; it is a friend of mine asking if I want to go out and party.There is a party and I need to be there right now.The friend informs me over the phone that their are drugs at this party(THANK YOU DUMBASS)and that I need to be at this party right now.When people are fucked up they often repeat themselves;the friend is remaining true to form.
When the kids are at school things are a little more quiet, but not much.My father will come walking into my house, greeting the animals and shouting for me.I race downstairs, worried he is ill(he has hypertension)and needs to go to the hostipal.No, he just came over to say hello.He asked if I am okay.I say yes, but there is this paper....
I am less than a year away from my masters.I have a combined thesis and project I must complete in order to graduate.In order to write the thesis I will probably need to build a treehouse in my front yard, run an extension cord from my house, grab a computer and a bag of pork rinds.IT WILL BE THE ONLY WAY TO GET THE FUCKING THESIS DONE.
To those writing term papers, we salute you.

The Other Country

2005-05-01T13:14:00.000-07:00

My poetry class ended Thursday at the U.Our final project(besides a lovely paper still facing me)was too present to the class a modern poet of our choice, read a piece of their work, and briefly discuss them.
As I sat and listened to the the various poets discussed and their respective works read; I was sudenly taking aback to find myself glad to be an American citizen.The depth of isues covered by these poets, their couragous views on issues that were more than just provacative; they were history changing and have a direct effect on you and I, and how the arts are the true voice for a viable civilization.
With the ideal of democracy(the Jeffersonian kind, not Dubya's) in serious jeopardy, to hear the student's in my class select the works of Maya Angelou and Carter Revard, convey's to me that all is not lost.When I see and hear young men reading black feminist poetry voluntarily, I have hope our society will look upon women and girls as equal citizens, with all the rights and priviliges guarenteed for them by an Equal Rights Amendment.
The idea of class determining succes is shattered by the acclaim these poets have risen too.My own middle class parents instilled in me the idea that with hard work and luck this country could give me many riches.Some of thes poets had less than nothing.Some were former drug adicts, mentally ill, or had done more than a few jolts in jail.Yet, they overcame adversity and recieved the plaudits of their community and their nation.
To be a patriot to me is to openly challenge what threatens the very sanctity of ones nation.As Americans we have a resposibility to celebrate, question and create through deeds or acts what will benefit our nation as a whole.Go out and protest , vote, tell your kids that they owe this country to do and be their best; whatever their field.Remember those that have gone before you when you see something that is wrong.Some died on battlefields, others read a poem at a rally that ignited change.We are an amazing , fabulous nation because we have this diversity, we have a crazy kind of bravery when it comes to our nations writers.
As someone that was born in the 60's I entreat the younger generation to pick up the torch and follow your heart in your work and remember;NO FEAR.

there is hope

2005-04-27T14:30:00.000-07:00

Today is the 9th anniversery of my husband's death.You know, the one that died of an overdose.So today in celebration I fixed my furnace on my own, dealt with emergincies as the happened and thought about were things stand.
I put a restraining order on my former boyfriend because he is playing Billy bad ass and I don't have time for this shit.This time instead of a herion, as it was with my husband, it's meth with him.Whee.Unlike smack, meth causes permenant brain damage( like early alzheimers)and unpredictible behavior; hence the restraining order and the timeout.
NO, THIS IS NOT ANOTHER OF MISS TERRI'S LECTURES;it is the truth.
Now friends and neighbors, I will and can do anything in bed, my street cred there is good.But I DON'T FUCK DEALERS AND USERS OF THIS SHIT.I have my standards(a beating pulse, 18 or older, must have a knowledge of the arts)but meth is nasty stupid shit and here I GO AGAIN.
I realized that my late husband would want better things for me and the kids.If he is watching this foolishness from Heaven, he is saying what the fuck Terri.I realized that I am not the cause of a certain donkey's usin'.I realize that he cannot treat me anyway he wishes.If there is one thing someone gets from reading this blog is that meth is the ultimate shell game.What you see is not what you get.You lose your teeth, your friends(at least the good ones)and your mind.No, i AM NOT GETTING PAID BY THE FUCKING DEA for writing this.My ex lost a tight piece with brains because he wants to smoke DRAINO.Makes sense, don't it?
But there is hope.My daughter is planning on college; she is already on the National Honor Roll(she doesn't smoke meth)and my son wants to be a researcher in the field of bio-engineering.
I want to graduate from USD with my master's and achieve mutual orgasm with my new partner(who doesn't smoke meth).There is hope.

slow kiss, sweaty feet

2005-04-27T13:44:00.000-07:00

The first kiss in anyone's life is supposedly the high point of one's existence.My first kiss had too be of the more ecclectic variety; taking into consideration the geographic location, the timing which was not the best and the invidual doing the kissing.
I was involved at the tender age of 14 in a dance company.I was, as in known in the trade a'baby ballerina', a young female dancer that could possibley rise to the dance n the Metro area if I chose to not eat solid food on a reguler basis.In the summer the company was on loan to area theatre company's that needed strong dance talent.This being in Maryland, we were kept busy with te summer stock tourist trade bullshit which everybody in the company despised, but we were paid well, and that stopped some of the bitching.
I was in rehearsal for the musical Pippin, and I had gotten a principal dance role, lot's of money(which promptly went up my nose) and a friend of mine , Danny had also gotten a priciple role as well.We rehearsed on the average 8 hours a day because we were non-union.So we saw a lot of each other; and you know were this is going.
In our one scene we had to dance a pas de deux; dance together basically.Now contrary to populer belief, ballet is sensual and moving.And when one is the female partner in a pas de deux, one is touched or held in intimate places.But oddly enough we weren't thinking about his hand on my crotch as he raised me aloft .We were focused on making it look beautiful, elegant, something that transcended life.
So we spent time together, went across the street on breaks to grab White CAstle burgers, and hang out with the stage hands because we could.One night it was raining like a bastard, and Danny offered to go get dinner for me; I had just gotten over the flu, I was covered in sweat and running around in the rain wasn't the best idea.So, he split with Gus, a lighting designer and I played like a possum and waited.
We ate our meal in silence up in the lighting booth.Gus decided to leave, he needed a chemical boost of the herbal variety to get through another rehearsal.Danny joked about the director of the production and sang bits of he libretto.I found myself very quiet, suddenly not knowing what to say, so I drank my soda.Outside I could hear the rain fall and I thought of the walk home in it.
Then I felt a hand on my left shoulder, I turned and it was Danny.He had said something I hadn't heard him."Your doing okay out there, you know that don't you?Don't let that fucking director make you go on pointe too much.Your still a kid".I blushed, but told him I was okay.
Then Danny leaned over the lighting console and kissed me on the lips.Just like that.He drew back, his brown eyes inquistive as to my reaction.So I kissed him back, touching his brown , curly hair as I did, unsure as to what I should be feeling.And I felt something, a slow tingle that started at the base of my spine and worked it's way up.
Gus came staggering into the lighting booth shrouded in smoke, and the director was screeching for us to get ourselves on the stage.The music started, and we danced.
After the musical ran,Danny left for he fabled Metro dance scene.He didn't make it and came back.I never saw him again.

Struck

2005-04-20T11:51:00.000-07:00

Struck

Red spills to the place on her
Paleness surrounds the rest, the shade of muslin

Out of the tree's
the doves take flight,
leaving bare branches

The red is wide
and gaping
Crimson cascades to the floor

The soul shuts
the tree's burn
the curtain is pulled

My poem Struck is based on Sylvia Plath's poem Contusion, wrritten literaly in the last days of her life.The opening lines of my poem follow Contusion, Color floods to the spot , dull purple.The rest of the body is all washed out, the color of pearl.These lines are almost haiku like in their delicacy, their rhythym mesmerizing and haunting.I used the color red at the beginning of my poem to illustrate injury and fear, but also as an homage to Sylvia's use of the color red in her own poems.
In the next section I use natural elements to convey to the reader the shock to the system, of disharmony within the natural order of living things. The startled flight of doves out of their natural habitat arises out of fear, of impending harm.In Contusion, the violence of the sea is the focal point of naturalistic disquiet;In a pit of rock The sea sucks obessively, One hollow the whole sea's pivot.The violence is focused and centralized.
The last part of my poem I am showing the result of the event, burning tree's , a river of blood on the floor from the blow to her face.The results are laid bare like a slaughtered animal.Except I believe I used more violent imagery in the last half of my piece than Contusion; The size of a fly, The doom mark Crawls down the wall.The heart shuts, The sea slides back, The mirrors are sheeted.Syvia's poem is references grief while mine references both grief and violence.Again, there is a rhythym in thesse lines that is Asian in it's feel, it's delicacy.I used a pulled curtain to indicate isolation from society; no one loks in or out.The mirror that is sheeted is indicative of an expression of grief and loss.
With my poem I played with the rhthym and imagery; taking liberty with both to illustrate the betrayal of trust, the fear that domestic violence creates.I felt , that violence creates disorder and disharmony within all living things .This is why I felt Contusion, was so compelling.Sylvia Plath couragously as she could in her final days confronted what grief and loss really feel like.
It's a fucking pity that the cost became to high for this lady; rock on Sylvia, your gone but not forgotten.

join the party

2005-04-13T20:55:00.000-07:00

I became political late in life.Before I had followed the politics of my paents; the Democrats and the anti-nuclear set where all the rage in Maryland.I had no strong sense of what I wanted until I became a parent.
When one becomes a parent, the priorties change; we hope,.But politically I became very aware because my daughter was born during the time of the Reagen/Bush admintration.Social programs were being cut drastically and the economy went into a tailspin.I was a single parent that survived on food stamps and a part time job, and luck.My partner was on the road doing insane things with stage rigging and lights so my daughter and I had a roof over our head.He paid what child support he could(for those about to run out on child support, you are assholes) and I tried to finish university.I watched my neighborhood in Baltimore slowly decline into a sea of despair and crack.So I became involved in my precinct politically.The alderman in my area and I organized meeting with area organizations that dealt with gang violence, substance abuse, and how to apply for puplic assistence without going insane, or losing your dignity.But one night at one of these meetings I was told by a lady that that I didn't know what the hell I was talking about.Why?Because I was not black.I was poor, I was female, my partner was in recovery, my daughter was enrolled in a multi-cultural pre-school etc.But I was not black.
I turned in my resignation the following day; the alderman read it and asked me why I was quitting.He stared at me for a moment , then told me though I was not black, I was a human being.I lived in a rowhouse three blocks away from him, I had to take the bus to school because I could not afford a car, and my partner had to work on the road because there where no jobs in Baltimore; Tasha had not seen her daddy for months at a time and hardly knew him when he came home.
Get involved in the area where you are, affect change positively when you can.Skin color is cool , but don't let it be a barrier to doing things for the benefit of the global village we call home.

spring reckoning

2005-04-13T20:21:00.000-07:00

Today I had to do something that left me extremely saddened.I had to get a restaining order against someone that I once loved very deeply.This is not your garden variety restraining order; this involves a former lover that believes my current mon amour is a rabbit, that I drive a bus, and that I head up a secret organization called the Instigators.But it is not a secret anymore because I just put it on a blog(oh dear).
Now, I hate going into my local courthouse to get my tags renewed; I hate talking to cops and being in front of a judge really makes me unhappy.I feel like I have 3 kilos of smack and ten whores with fighting alligators trailing behind me when I am anywhere near the law.But I couldn't take it anymore; my ex was still threating to call my father or my mother about my scandolous behavior(I like to scream when I come), he told his friend Goatman to slap me around to prove he was a real man
then he called me a whore(I am giving it away) and the piece de restidence;he said he can treat me any way he wants to.NO, MOTHERFUCKER YOU CAN'T.
So this lady marched her trim fanny into the clerk of courts and hey, presto!Faster than you can say CONTROLLING ASSHOLE, this lady had herself a temporay restraining order.The judge read the narrative, including the part about how this lady was treated and rubber stamped it.
No more games.But it does make me sad;this guy was cool and hot at the same time.He was very kind and generous when he wanted to be, sometimes when he didn't need to be.He was good for my kids and to them as well.He started having blackouts though, and saying crap that was not even cool.He said things to the effect that screwing young girls was good for them, it taught them things.Or he bragged how much crap he stole from work.
I need to go to a follow up hearing in May.I hope he is not there.But if he is I will deal with it. I am no angel either in this relationship, believe me.I fucked his best friend when he was on the road , I called him way to much and once destroyed a piece of his property.However, I didn't threaten his parents or his friends.RAnt, vent,rant.
This is for anyone reading this; male or female, no one deserves to be treated like shit in a relationship.A relationship supposedly enhances ones life.
update4/20/ 05. According to a attorney I just spoke to today, in the state of South Dakota I stand little chance of getting a restraining order for a year or more because the other party(the ex) actually has to do credible damage; i.e., inflict lasting physical injury .My hearing is the 10th of May, if he shows up with or without an attorney, I must prove that he intends to harm/ kill me.So, basically, I should have let him throw me down the stairs the last time we fought.
God Bless the state of South Dakota; next time your state rep. goes to Pierre, mention you don't want to be six feet under in order for a restraining order to be issued .

the eye of God

2005-03-30T14:52:00.000-08:00

The days of the year I love best are in the early summer.Out here in cow and sheep country the air still retains coolness that makes horseback riding and moving cows a pleasure rather than a chore.In the depth of summer my good bay gelding decides its to fucking hot to do anything but swish flies and contemplate four more years of Repuplican rule.
So I go out, on No Trace Mccue, a blood bay gelding that has an ass end like a locomotive, an an attitude like Sid Vicious.He has a an easy walk, his head swinging back and forth like a stoner.His fox ears move back and forth as well in rhythym to his walking.I sit in him and gaze at sweeping sky, open fields that ready to surender under a plow and golden eagles that ae looking for lunch.And I wait.
For What?Well, said the nuns to Terri when she was a child, the nature of love resides in you.If you love yourself, you can love others.God, resides in you, hence, to love yourself is to love God.Above everything; love God.The rest will follow.Kind of like the ass end of my horse.Keep going forward, and the past will take care of itself.Beat, beat, beat, his walk is a four beat gait, and I remember the faces of God as I saw them reflected in friends or people that had passed through my life.The man that gave me 4 dollers to buy gas so I could get back home.Or the young woman on the train that said she would pray for me when she found out about my husband's death.I didn't know her name.
We see God everywhere, not just in church.It is by letting ourselves see; not disregard the kindness that is ssent to us by the Divine.Eyes open, ears going back and forth, look, there is rainbow.

Eating

2005-03-23T14:14:00.000-08:00

Eating

The food that I find in the kitchen
at my mother's

Is full of many thiungs one will not find at Sunshine
She is able to add to each plate of lasagna a piece of
advice about my love life
or lack of it

It has nothing to do with food
It is about
Giving to me the things
That she couldn't when
her own pain
was to great
Eat up

The poem Eating, is based on Frank 'O Hara's YESTERDAY AT THE CANAL.The opening lines
to my poem is a illustration of place(a kitchen) , and mood .My mothers' kitchen has always been a source of curiosity to me, within the chaos of my life she has maintained a place that is full of solace and nurturing.I drew from the opening lines of Yesterday a feeling of lonliness, of wandering around looking for a place to be.I contrasted these two differant moods; where one is and where one wants to be.I went further to illustrate the mood by stating that my mother's kitchen is full of many things, O'Hara, in his lines goes on to say ,I am terribly bored sometimes it is like seeing a bad movie other days,more often,it's like having a acute disease of the kidney
god knows it has nothing to do with the heart.
I chose with my poem to convey imagery in sequence; the food, the kitchen, lasagna, and advice.I felt that I wanted to do this so that the reader could relate to what I what I was trying to convey; that rooms within homes all have meaning.That things (food) are not static items and have deeper meaning within them.O'Hara does this as well in Yesterday; can i borrow your forty-five I only need one bullet preferably silver if you can't be interesting at least you can be a legend, instead of a weapon of desruction I chose to put food and advice in my piece. My closing lines of my poem of a form of contrast, her pain within her marriage and a steaming plate of pasta, and the advice to eat up, this is as good as it gets.His piece uses the contrast of being alone, but wanting to talk someone, but wanting to stay in within ones own space.
Both poems have a rhythym that is sparse, and pedantic.I felt with Yesterday that the rhythym was uneven, that it jangled my nerves to read it.In the beginning it starts off easily, and then I felt the unease, and the uneveness of it, rocky almost.I started my poem the same way, because I wanted to catch the reader off- guard.

midnight at the oasis

2005-03-22T22:21:00.001-08:00

So the girl can't sleep and this is what happened;

I am myself
you can't get in
anymore
get in
to turn my words against me
to destroy my
dreams
that i have had since i was 5
and wanted too be a ballerina
and not a whore
to your hate
that makes
me

jump
like my heart is to burst with
the pain
of
your words hitting me and hitting me and hitting me
stop stop stop i said
the little girl said
i want this pain to end
i said
between stupid crazy bitch
my friends think your crazy
go go fuck him then
you cunt
filthy mountain trash
junkie
whore
my dreams took flight
away
from your words
i wanted to be 5 again
i wore a pale blue dress
and blue ribbons in my dark hair
that you pulled
i was perfect then
i was not the words that
spilled spilled vomited spilled
out of you
like a cancer that ate your soul.
when this is over
i will pray for you
i loved you
but i love myself
i love myself

one day you will look in the mirror

and you will see

your own face
come to see
that the booze was a lie
the crystal was a lie
that your friends were a lie
that you told yourself
lies
that they stole those years
won't, can't give them back

i won't, can't give you my dreams
or my wild laughter in the middle of the night
you don't get the dancing blue eyes
with
the silly smile
you don't get to see me
when i come, and
my knees shake
i heard myself laugh
again
i can still laugh
and breathe
and dream.

chasing points

2005-03-22T19:09:00.001-08:00

The summer of my 15th year was surreal.I had just purchased a former eventing horse in Pennsylvania, for a very small sum of money and she was turning into a jumping champion.My nice, dysfuctional middle class family and I followed behind a gleaming horse van in our beat up Toyota; on the road to victory and points.
Points are what a rider and horse recieved for each winning place in a horse show.My mare and I would compete in several classes, or divisions, in order to snare a seasonal championship.This was not easy, my mare had suffered a severe form of tendonitis, at the hands of her former owner and she been overfaced, which meant she had made to jump fences that were too high for her, and was scared to try again.I could understand how she felt.At the farm her and I would try to go on trail rides, and leave the jumping alone.I did not want her to get bored with jumping, or sore.
But at the horse show it was a differant story, in order to get the championship we had to enter classes in the morning and throughout the day.In the Maryland heat when the humidity is like a rainforest, it can be a challenge to both horse and rider to get excited about another jump- off.I was talking to fellow competitor about the diffculty of keeping my mare sound for showing season; which began earlier and ended later each year.He replied with laughter that he had no problems.I asked what his secret was. He told me gave his horses painkillers to keep them sound.
I went back to where my horse was stabled and looked at the upcoming classes.My stared horse looked me in the eye, she had already been through so much, the thought of making her eat dope to get over a brick wall was obscene.That day I said fuck it; packed up my horse and took up trail riding for the rest of that summer; much to the surprise of some in the show jumping scene.
You see, I am not a super goody fucking two-shoes.However, when one has an obsession that endangers or leads to the suffering of another creature(human or otherwise) then things get a little up.My horse liked to jump, and by Christ I liked to win, but at what price?Best case scenario she would have retired sound, worst case she could have snapped a foreleg with me on her.The crowd went wild for me and my chestnut mare, but other things were more important.

ave maria

2005-03-16T21:16:00.000-08:00

wWhen I was reading Frank O'Hara's Ave Maria, I was reminded of Catholic schoolgirl life.Which contrary to populer opnion not full of ass grabbing priests or whipping nuns; which would be a cool name for a rock band; WHIPPING NUNS play tonight at the Sioux Falls Arena.Hello Kitty could be the opening band, and the local union could provide hijinks and comedy for all.
Anyway reading this particuler poem , I thought of my parents, and how they assumed that by sending me to a religious school I would be stay pure of heart and mind.Well I TRIED.The opening lines are prophetic of how things are hidden within and how society corrupts.Mothers of America let your kids go to the movies!get them out of the house so they won't know what you're up to it's true that fresh air is good for he body but what about the soul.It is when one is setting out into the wide world that things are truly revealed(no shit Sherlock).
He continues to foreshadow what is about to happen to the wayfaring child, they may be even grateful to you for their fist sexual experince which only cost you a quarter and didn't upset the peaceful home they will know where candy bars come from and gratous bags of popcorn as gratuituos as leaving the movie before it's over with a pleasent stranger .At the time of this poem(1960) was written , child molestation was an issue that was very much in the dark ages.
When I read these lines I was chiledby them.I realize that it has always been an issue, however, like many of my generation , I went to th movies alone or with my little Terri friends.He speaks in these lines of the lost innocence that were the result of indifferance.
He is becomes prophetic again in the closing lines,so don't blame me if you won't take this advice and the family breaks up and your children grow old and blind in front of a tv set seeing movies you wouldn't let them see when they were young.The problems of the present fester like a wound and spread throughout the soul; of ourselves and our loved ones.
I am going to go listen to WHIPPING NUNS.

extra credit; one spotted filly

2005-03-09T13:42:00.000-08:00

Her registered name is Drift My Way, she is a tobiano American Paint horse.These purely physical desriptions of a very complex horse.She was foaled in a cornfield up in Mobridge, South Dakota, born at the end of Febuary.Thank the Christ it had been a mild winter, because there was no shelter.Her mother, Kit, milked out well, so the filly didn't go hungry, and the mare, also being range bred had a sense of coyotes and big cats, and kept close to the herd.
Mya, as she would come to known, would not see a person until she was six months old.Her and her mother would be rounded up and driven through a chute to a trailer.She was driven to a ranch to a the southeastern part of the state. They told me she could move out, and I could see it as she GALLOPED AROUND AND AROUND, head high, tail like a flag.Her breeding was stock type , but there was a thorughbred, in there somewhere.Later, her pedigree confirmed this; one Stakes winnner on her papers.She was bred to burn as they say, but could I train her for my daughter?
When she came to my farm, she put everything into a uproar.The two very aged geldings were alarmed by her shrieks and running around. What the hell was her problem?My young paint horse thought she was a fine piece for him, but alas, he too was gelded.The cats and dogs couldn't get theur naps in because she was yelling for her mom, or home or something.It was like having a 400 hundred pound toddler running around the yard.My father , raised on ranches , went out too her pen and fed her cookies and beer, making her drunk and giving her a suger high.Obviously this was how the West was won.
My daughter eyed her new mount and asked me if she could ride one of the geldings.My friends thouht after kicking a herion habit I had traded one form of suicide for another.Round and round the filly galloped as the season's turned.Slowly she came to know a halter, to stand tied and be at peace within herself.Now at 4 years old she jumps ditches, and logs and when she chooses to turn it on,cantrun anything bred in Kentucky.At night, I will go out to her pen , and we will look at the star's together and contemplate our existence.

extra credit; joy

2005-03-07T22:29:00.000-08:00

For those people who really know me this is going to be a very strange story of personal joy.I am not, nor have I claimed to be a domestic diva.My house is strange mixture of organized chaos, and outright mayhem.On any given night, there may be a possum dozing in the dryer or the pony in the kitchen.Or a biker, post - Sturgis rally asleep oon the couch.
It was a winter afternoon back in 1989, I was living in Maryland and had just had my daughter Tasha three days before.I was living in a downstairs flat that I let from my parents.In preparation fpr the big day my mother had hired a housekeeper to come in and clean.The apartment was part of a Federal home that was made cozy by light blue wallpaper and polished wood floors.The sheets had been changed as well as the curtains, which were white cotton in color and billowed on to my bedroom floor.
My daughter's bassinet was in a corner of the room, and already a small cross was hung on it as well as a string of bells and beads to frighten away the fairies,so they wouldn't take her away, and replace her with a changling.Everytime she moved there would be a tinkle ,tinkle sound.
I went over to the bassinet and picked her up for her feeding, as she was nursing I was marvaling at the tiny mouth and fingers, at the wisp of strawberry blond hair on her little pointy head and eyebrows.She stopped nursing, burped in a ladylike fashion, and went to sleep.
I woke up slowly, and felt warmth in the crook of my arm; my daughter was asleep, sunlight spiling across her pal I skin, transforming her into something so heatbreakingly beautiful I almost wept.She did not know that her father and I were not married, and that he, a differant race, drew stares in puplic when we were together.She did not know her mother still had two years of a grueling university ahead of her, and that because of this, my mother would be the one she would come to call mama.
On that winter afternoon so many years ago, this cynical woman knew true joy.Because I saw the beauty that was within me and the rest of my family reflected in that exquisite little face.

steppin' out

2005-03-05T14:50:00.000-08:00

My first time away from home was not planned; my parent's were fighting like bastards and my father was getting all his ideas of proper behavior from a bottle of scotch.At the time we lived in a somewhat remote mountain village in Western Maryland, there was a highway on the edge of town that led to the interstate, and the interstate led away from the fucking head games.
One night after dinner, the ready to rumble sign switched on, and my parents were at each others throats liike hyena's fighting over a carcass.Accept I was the carcass.I t was an early autumn evening, and it wasn't to cold outside.I just grabbed my coat, and my purse and walked out the backdoor.I reached the highway, and just kept walking, not even waiting for a car to pull over and stop.A pickup stopped, andI walked cautiously up to it, a woman sat at the wheel and asked if I wanted a lift.So I got in.I stared straight ahead , thank the Christ she didn't ask a shitload of questions.
We eventually pulled up at a mini mart, she went inside to get smokes and some soda's for her and I .As I sat there in th cab in the truck, I debated what to do next; I was only 14 , and could be busted in Maryland for running away.I had no means of support, and no other family in the area that I could really turn too.Going back home was out of the question, I had reached an emotional breaking point , I even had considered suicide as a means of very permanent escape.
She returned with the soda's and got back in.I finally asked her if I could hang with her that night.She said okay, that it was cool, but she had to go work ; I could back to her place or go to work with her.Work for her was stripping at a club called the Double Vision.Just stay back in the dressing room and it'll be okay she assured me.
Later that evening as I watched the girls come back from their sets, I actually felt a little sympathy for my parents, they had to be wondering were the hell I was.I thought about my mom worrying, and actually felt guilt.It wasn't her fault my father was a drunk.I talked to a dancer named Mindy about what was going on.She told me to consider returning, that a girl my age would end up in a ditch somewhere, my throat slit and my cunt in shreds.Wow.Talk about a puplic service announcement come to life.I went home with her at dawn, grabbed breakfest, smoked a bowl with her, and went back home.

on christmas

2005-03-02T13:57:00.000-08:00

After reading Christmas, I felt as if I wasn't te only circus freak that had problems with the holidays.In the opening line of the poem, the sense of two inviduals caught together in a ritual holiday of forced emotion and instead of anticpation of opening presents , there is just the sense of tension .
We all know that the holiday season is the Superbowl for those with substance abuse issues and emotional problems.The feelings of inadequecy and isolation are increased tenfold.Personally, I start to feel like I have ass full of razor blades and my head is spinning around like the chick from the Excercist.I All the things that I did not do as a mother to create a happy holiday home jump out at me.Some life changing toy that I did not buy the kids; that may later result in them both selling herion to first graders and running an illegal fighting alligator ranch.I have written my family not to phone today, we had to put away your photographs.We had to.We have no choice.'In these lines Lowell really hit me ; the feel;ing of wanting to wrap oneself in cotten wool and just self-protect from familiel judgments.
It is only later in the poem that he writes that, the tedium and de'ja -vu of home make me love it; bluer days will come and acclimitize the Christmas gifts: redwood bear, lemon-eggg, shampoo, home -movie projector.In these lines the hoopla that is surrouding the holiday season is now at a low-ebb.One can accept the gifts for what they are not represent.They are gifts that are not repayments on personal slights(however imagined) or a way to curry favor.The gifts are just banal everday objects that could be purchased at any department store.
The closing lines, We at home and warm, as if we had escaped the gaping jaws -underneath us like a submarine, nuclear and protective like a mother, swims the true shark, the shadow of departure.He is I believe trying to convey to the reader the relief of yet another holiday's passing, as well as the sense that sometimes we only have ourselves and our limited faith to cling to during a very isolating time of the year.This the other side of the bullshit holiday hype, and I am glad that this particuler piece of poety is around.Ho, ho, ho.

Is she mine

2005-02-25T21:46:00.000-08:00

That was the question as I was pulled from my mother on a icy Minnesota night see, both my parents have brown eyes, but my eyes were and have remained blue. Dad made the joke that the mailman must be the father, as he waited for my eyes to change color, as the nurses assured him they would. they have remained blue .I have had clerks at stores comment on my contacts( I don't have any) and everyone of my lovers, both the gals and the guys have used the standard line about my interesting eyes,one notable one(and you know who you are)asking me if they were really mine.
The rest of me is fairly ordinary.I have a very pale complexion, thanks to my Gaelic heritage I burn in the summer ; looking like someone that stood too close to a nuclear test sight. In the winter I resemble a woman that just recently lost a large amount of blood. My paleness draws stares from some, perhaps they are worried that I will suffer an attack of the vapors and pass out on the street.In a photo I found of myself with my newborn son, I look like a phantom in a green housecoat.My son looks very, very, healthy in comparison.
I have inherited, along with my mother's flightiness(and sense of the absurd) , her cheekbones with the paleness, this gives me a strangely exotic air here in the heartland of America .I remember when I was living in Europe, and being told by nationals that I did not look American.Meaning what, I still do not understand; when I came back to visit, the Customs officials had a field day, asking me my nationality as I showed them my US passport. In a plane going back to Europe someone from Russia or France will try to speak to me in their native language as I would sit helplessly in my seat, flapping my arms trying to convey I was a moron, and a AMERICAN.
As time passes my face has retained some of it's youthfulness. The wrinkles around my eyes are more pronounced, as are the bags under my eyes when I am tired. Madame needs her sleep as she needs her orgasms and if this lady doesn't get her 8 hours of sleepy time watch out; the end result is a cranky bi-sexual feminist, (with bags )and everyone's ass is mine.
My toilet to slow down this travesty is to exfoliate(not masturbate) my face then immediately put on moisturizer after a shower. Once a week I put on a toning mask, which is green in color, and makes my kids howl with laughter, and also makes my dog Missy hide behind the sofa.Fun times in the looney bin I call my home. Beauty has it's price.

on top of it

2005-02-23T13:34:00.000-08:00

We all have friends that can be there for us when things get a little crazy and weird, and that'sa cool when they choose to be there.But those same friends can be worse than a cobra when it comes to one's personal mental and spirutual health. It always amazes me that some friends pull shit that your average asshole living in a mission somewhere would not dare pull.
I have a friend of mine that I was once lovers with(always a dangerous thing ladies; once you start blowing a guy some of them think that's your permanent place, on your knees) and he had quite the drinking/ using problem.Anyway with this said invidual, he would have blackouts, say crazy shit about my family, wanted to use my car to buy drugs, because the cops had already scoped out his car and numerous other fun dysfuctional things.So when I brought these things to his attention; I AM SICK OF YOUR BEHAVIOR( he was very pissed).He claimed that I was the cause of his drinking /using problem, that he drank because of his profession(he is a union stagehand), and that I deserved the abuse he dealt out to me and my kids.Whee, we were having fun now.The sad and sorry thing is that I BELIEVED THIS SHIT, for a little while. Then things changed.
I started meeting people in similier circumstances as mine, men and women that were cast in the steller role of DOORMAT.I realized that people like my ex can't handle it when someone close to them is doing well, it fuck's with their world because someone else is doing okay and that special someone doesn't need to get toasted or baked in order to find a job or wipe their own ass.
Now, as it stands I still consider a friend of my ex , when he is more or less straight he is beautiful.However, I don't let him pull even half the shit that he used too.I don't accept the put downs and the half truths as easily, and I thank BUDDY CHRIST that I did not marry him(I could just see the DEA coming to my farm and taking my horses, and social services taking my kids) I mean the sex was good but cock is cock, and is available at any bar on on any given night ladies.
It is very easy to get sucked into someone else's negativity; bad vibes as my mom used to call them, and this bitch don't have the time for it.It is okay to be friends with someone like my ex; but it is buyer beware. You may lose yourself and your way, and that's todays little moral tale for living.

dance to the music

2005-02-16T13:52:00.000-08:00

Some songs are just like guys that you date for the hell of it and easily forget .O ther songs tend to sum up all to well what is going on your life. aS My life changes, currently for the better; thanks to some rock solid friends and my little big book, the song that has put the spin on this year so far is Arrowsmiths',Amazing.Anybody that is familier with rock's former bad boy Steve Tyler, and his favorite former hobby(besides the pussy) knows the man has been through some usin' times, like our favorite writer here.
I was listening to the song on the way to school last week, getting ready to freak out about a open reading of my play, and thinking about getting a little help from the brothers Budweiser, or Mr. Daniels.It being noon this could be a possibility, as I drove through cow town##.Listened to the song, and it doesn't talk about finding Jesus at a TUPPERWARE party, or joining the Moonies to get through the jones. Basically, it's about how you can be soooooooooo down, and in your shit, and your the only one that can change it.That you have the power.And that other people like it when your down, fucked up as it is, because then your one of them.
Mr. Tyler goes on to say in this little ditty that it's amazing when things change for the better, and to go with the feeling, and not let fellow assholes drag you down.Whee.So yours truly was FEELING THE POWER as she pulled into USD's lovely fine arts parking lot; shaking her love thing for all it's worth, and feeling AMAZING.
However, friends and neighbors, the secret is to remember that sensation when shit hits the fan.
I had to recently visit a friend of mine in a cancer ward, and as I left that same old non-happy feeling washed over me.In the elevator I started humming the above mentioned song, getting some weird ass looks, but whatever, and getting through the moment.

flight

2005-02-09T18:27:00.000-08:00

The style similarities between my poem and Anne Sexton's Her Kind lie within the repeated refrain of I have been her kind and I was not there anymore.Creating I feel a kind of music, that based on the subject of both poems give it a rhythmic feel.This rhythym stregthens the both poem's subject matter.Which is basically how female empowerment is rewarded;by being destroyed.
In my poem Flight, I am trying to convey to the reader how darkly religion can be interperated, and perverted by others.The figure in the poem could be either male or female, whereas in Her Kind , the person in this poem is obviously female.Also, Anne uses more domestic imagery than I do.Objects such as skillets, shelves, houses, and closets etc.These objects tie in with domestic female lives, prouducing imagery of a wise woman, a earth mother that has been shunned by her commmunity.In my poem I decided to use imagery that had to do with the earth, because I felt like I gained a stronger sense of a earth based style from Anne's poem.
I also used the sense of social isolation that is in HER Kind, the wise woman that haunts the night, that keeps company with elves rather than humans, who expects to pay the price for her independence, and who not afraid to do so.The feeling of being misunderstood, and not part of the crowd.With my poem I begin it with the opening line ,I walked away from them.My charecter feels he/she cannot contiue to be part of things anymore, that healing needs to happen.Like Sexton, I place my source of shelter in a grove and field; she places her charecter in a cave, and in a wood.
By placing the charecter in the first person,like Sexton, I am trying to gain the empathy of the reader.I feel the subject matter of both poems are so universal(social isolation, punishment, spirtual freedom), that the reader does quickly understands the main charecters plight.Sexton is a genius in her piece because she uses her words sparingly, the drama unfolding is done without histironics.I tried to do the same thing , using my words with care, letting the words and rhthym do the work of telling the story ithout alot of messiness.
I found it very diffcult to do so, because of the subject matter,Sexton had that ability to use nuance and not melodrama to hit her point home to the reader.

sorrow hill

2005-02-09T13:28:00.000-08:00

When I was in my mid twenties, my husband suddenly died.I had hoped that the illness that took him would eventually be cured, but it was not to be.His death, though not totally unexpected, was still a terible surprise to me and my daughter and son.
The day after I was informed of his death, I went about in a kind of haze, everything seemed wrapped in a strange fog.At the funeral home I felt like I was zombie, and that the director of the funeral home was speaking some weird foreign language.My husband's family joined me in the city were he had passed away.They to looked like they wre wearing masks, that we were all caught in a surreal carnival of grief.
My brother-in law and went back to my husband's flat to get a suit for the burial.I remember standing in my husband's bedroom, and staring at the bed.I burst into tears, it had been only four days ago that my husband and I had made love on the floral sheets.My brother- in law placed his hand on my shoulder when I told him this.Tears welled up in his eyes as well.In silence we went through my husband's things, selecting a green sportcoat and white linen shirt.
He used to wear these clothes on Sundays, taking us out to the park, and afterward to the pub.
The time for us to leave came.I looked around the flat;willing my husband to come walking into the bedroom, his smile lightng up the room, his gren eyes dancing as they fell on me.I was 15 years his junior, and he called me his guilty pleasure to his friends.But in the doorway no familier tall form appeared, no laughter.There was only sunlight falling against the hallway, and silence.
In the car I was silent.I was trying to envision the next 18 or so years of raising 2 children by myself.Going back to America was not an option now.My friends were here in Ireland, as was part of my heart.I was determined to try to make a go of it, I carried an advanced degree and was already employed.But the idea of having to just carry on for the kids sake seemed almost to much.The faith I had learned in Catholic school seemed just not enough to get me through this nightmare.
The day of the funeral was beautiful.The rain had left, and left azure blue skies.I was dressed in long black skirt, a gold silk blouse and black dress coat.I remember the morning of the funeral looking in my dressing mirror, and being startled by the reflection of a very pale young woman staring back at me.I thought there was no way in hell another man would want me, that I was damaged goods, a woman with 2 kids clutching at her skirts.What a catch.
At the graveside stared off into the distance.There was a hill with several pine trees growing on it.The priest finished the homily, and the casket was slowly lowered into the grave.My toddler son played with my braid.I stared at the hill, watching the trees wave slowly back and forth in the early spring breeze.I heard a sound, it was the sound of dirt being thrown onto the casket.
And with that sound, my heart finished breaking.

lady of darkness

2005-02-07T19:16:00.000-08:00

In the poem,"Her Kind", feminist indepedence is explored and laid to rest within it's decade of puplish.Anne Sexton confronts the theme of the woman that goes beyonds the boundrey's and pays with her life in the end.The irony is not lost on the reader that Anne paid the ultimate price for her dark genius.
Anne writings concerning Sylvia Plath are as equally telling.She links herself with Sylvia in a strange nocturnal dance.She speaks of their special languauge, of their refrences to suicide and it's seemingly endless paths of destination.But unlike Sylvia, Anne doesn't need an adoring Ted Hughes to be hanging on to her every word.Anne has an easier time it seemed running the gauntlet, as it were of masculine nods and smiles of the poetry world within her decade.
Her outing's with Geogre Starbuck and Sylvia are something that put me in me mind of a teen-age slumber party.Her strange audicity of parking in the Loading Zone(to get loaded of course) is something I would expect of myself, not a woman that would set the poetry world on it's ear.
The poem'Her Kind' really through me because it talked about the price of genuis.It illustrated how a woman has to get the fuck away from everything to get any thing done that is even remotely in a creative vain,; and how that creativity is viewed as something evil.We eat our young and burn our artists in this country.Be a good bitch and suck it up.
The thing that bothers me the most is that I cannot blame a specific factor on Anne's death. She, unlike Sylvia Plath, seemed to have the knowledge of her own self-destructive life.In the decade she died lithium was being used more often for depression, and mental health was beginning to cast off some of it's misconceptions.As a person with depression, I found her poems almost inspiring because they assume a position of strength, the victim thing is no longer cool.The fact that she ended her life seems to be a lie.

day of reckoning

2005-02-06T17:36:00.001-08:00

My first day of middle schol was a fucking nightmare; teen-age drama not withstanding.The school that was I was to be attending had been newly built in a depressed southern mining community.It was built on top of a hill that overlooked a farming valley below it.Overall it was idyllic in it's setting.It had solar heating, a huge indoor greenhouse, a planetarium, and a well stocked library.But these things really didn't matter as I contempltated the countdown to attending a place where I knew I would be laughed at or jeered.
My physical devolopment was bizarre.I was cosiodered tall for my age, and my tits decided to take on a life of their own;they were huge, and I was mortified by their size.I started wearing sweaters during a stifling Maryland summer to hide them.They were like animals that had been unleashed from a lab.Also the wonderful world of acne came to be.My pale Irish -American skin began to sport smallpox like lesions.Of course all of these were on my face.With my blue eyes I looked liked something that had been devoloped and came to maturity in a bio-weapons plot of world conquest.I looked hideuos, and school was starting in two days
My mother in the interim had assured me thatI would be the most populer, beautiful girl there.
She didn't want to admit that she had a circus freak for a daughter.She also bought me bra's that able to contain my huge breasts.I felt like I was wearing a weird sort of harness , now I knew how my horse felt I though as the straps cut into shoulder blades.The clothes she selected wre all as tredy as I could want, Calvin Klein jeans, Adidas sneakers, and loads of Rush and Journey rock shirts.
The big day dawned.Of course my mom woke me up 2 hours before I needed to be there.As I staggered downstairs, my mom announced that breakfest was ready.On the table was food that would surely kill me when I was 40.Ham, bacon, hot ceral with a pound of suger added to it.The only healthy thing was some orange jiuce hiding behind. some pancakes.My stomach did a slow roll.
Clutchin some dry toast and my bookbag, I walked to my mom's car.She decided to drive me today to school; probably in the expectation that I wouldn't attend otherwise.As the stone flashed past me in the car, I whispered a prayer to whatever entity controlled the destiny of a circus freak like myself.Finally the citadel like structure appeared on the horizon.
The parking lot was a madhouse, so my mom stopped the car briefly enough for me to get out, and smeared my face Elizibeth Arden Victory Red lipstick; in the semblence of a good-bye kiss.
I walked through one of the numerous doors.Into the lions den.
All the girls it seemed were international models, and the boys were like Adonis.I joined the crowd as in one body the student made their way to the gym for the opening assembly.Orange walls with yelow lockers wen past me.I was in 70's hell.I reached the gym and sat on a pine bleacher.A small man that like Mr.Magoo came in, he informed us he was the principal, and that his word was law.He sounded like a Grand Dragon at a Klan Meeting.Minnesota seemed light years away and I WANTED TO GO HOME, AND I WANTED MY MOM.A cold sweat broke out on me.Blah, blah blah he intoned.Finally, he was done. I stood up on shaky legs and walked to my first class.

day of reckoning

2005-02-06T17:36:00.000-08:00

school is fun

2005-02-03T18:09:00.000-08:00

fun fun fun

test post

2005-02-03T18:02:00.000-08:00

today is a smiling day.

here i am

2005-02-02T19:21:00.001-08:00

My first day in middle was hell.The school was newly built, and it was the community.