(Related to the Monthly Series; Not my Period)

Blissful knocking of the socks off.

Please press this and turn it up. I promise. I know when people link things I overlook them all the time and think maybe I’ll do it later. Just shush and get some good sex music for your auditory senses. Then press this for some afterglow. This, if you’re a cryer during you-know-what, like Tori if you know what I mean. Nevermind.

Look, I think we need to talk. (Have you pressed the links yet?, because you can listen right now and still be here). Anyway, I know I’ve spoken to this many times, but I don’t think you are hearing me. I’m okay with you not being ready yet, but I have to say this as best I can: It is not what you think it is. I understand your preconceptions – they are valid. I understand why you wouldn’t even give it a chance. I was where you are at one point in my life.

Instead of it being about what you think it is, it’s more like one big movie about humanity, character development, and startling connections to what we keep doing to ourselves and our planet. With scenes filmed in ways that makes your brain tickle and your ears and eyes want more. It is simply stunning. It is simply bad-ass.

Just listen.

Oot of whack.

Oh hey there yah so anywho I picked up that Finding Beauty in a Broken World book by Terry Tempest Williams with an old b-day giftcard at barnes & whores. Can’t get past the first few poetic pages yet, but there it is, sitting there, urgently waiting. Like the rest of my life. On my old maple table. Pretty much literally because I’ve been spilling and breaking things (by accident) the last few days, and I spilled my beer in/on my satchel and laptop and all my shit is strewn about the table and the bag is drying in the shower after a Dr. Bronner’s bath. I’ve been in my own private mercury-in-retrograde. Poor Charlie.

Kthanksbye.

Top Searches

Just wanted to say that the top searches for my blog (or something else, really) are “without my bra” and “anal”.

Not sure how to feel about that, but I’ll take it. Ha ha, take it. I’m still in Jr. High apparently.

What’s she really saying?

Issues of Passion: Addendum

I had a very timely conversation over a pitcher of Bud Light with a nephew in the Star Bar (Sam’s Saloon) after posting yesterday’s attempt at reminding myself what matters. Oh, where do I start.
We have lost our common sense. What if something really, really bad happened – like the economy collapsing and being at war over fuel, and our infrastructure going to hell, and deciding on the next leader…right. But even worse. What if more shit were to hit the fan and we had to rely on our knowledge of how to survive?

Would I be able to light a fire or collect water and food? But let me back up a step or two. Of course we need to conserve energy, if not just for the sake of the high power bill. Of course we should be aware of toxins (like those in even florescent bulbs) and support our local stores and all that. I feel like we are on the brink of something bigger, and maybe my ultimate goal is to learn how to survive should we lose conveniences like power, water, and supermarkets. This goal is not fear-based, but from the desire to gain and implement knowledge of how to live on this Earth without making impacts that are irreparable. To work with what the Earth’s ecology teaches us.

Someday I’ll know how to wire my own solar panels to my toxic battery packs, and fix the wind turbine, and compost my own poo. For now, I’ll work on my own Bug Out Pack/Emergency Preparedness Kit, and learn tricks of the land that we have forgotten about in our industrialized western “civilization” we keep pushing on everybody in the world.

Issues of Passion: Footprint

Things I’m doing to reduce my footprint on the Earth (footprint: current popular term green yuppies are using to describe how much better they feel by doing things that don’t out-weigh driving their large utility vehicles and/or 2-stroke horrid scooters).

• Fluorescent bulbs all over my pad. For future bulbs going out – make sure I “recycle” them properly. You know, the full cycle of a product from birth to death and all that. It’s also called being anal retentive.
• Heat not more than 63 degrees, except for 2 hours when people come over to watch Battlestar DVDs. Then after they have sufficient drink I turn it back down because the alcohol keeps them warm. (If you really want to heat things up: 2 parts Lovage, 1 part Hennessy).
• Spend way too much money at the way-too-expensive local(?) Co-Op for goodies. Only buy things on sale there, by the way. Also, if you nudge a VW van with your subaru as you pull out of the lot, don’t stop. It is impossible to hurt a VW with a subaru; this is a Universal Truth.
• Plan my errands for one trip and ask a nearby niece if they need anything from whatever store. Apparently, they DO NOT need a vibrator.
• Use natural products. It’s amazing what vinegar and lemon juice will do, just ask yer grandma if she got ecoli – not the kind from wiping wrong.
• If it’s yellow, it’s mellow. If it’s brown, flush it down.

Things I’m doing to mess up my footprint on the Earth

• Drinking beer. Did you know it takes 2 beer bottles of good water to make one bottle of beer? Maybe I channel that water when I pee so much.
• Driving. Sometimes I even drive to take Charlie on a hike. Why don’t I just walk to the hiking spot? Because I’m lazy, and who has all that time in the world? And really, do the energy conserving things I do really out-weigh a 1600 mile road trip? Do I justify it in my head? Of course I do.
• Those rare occasions I go to Starbuck’s instead of supporting the local coffee houses. Where are my standards? Right there in that convenient cup of chai tea, swirling around with all that sugar.
• 582 other things, I’m sure. Pretty much everything, even having the “energy-star” stereo on all the time.

I don’t know, one might think I don’t have a consistant job and always have the camera nearby.

So young, and I’m already that crazy cat/pet lady who watches sci-fi and wears sweatpants all day. And no, I can’t make them pose, they do these things themselves and then hate me for capturing it.

Beautiful

Dear 24-Hour Flu,

You have now lasted 39 hours. At least the violent vomiting is over. All I have left is sweating, lack of energy, and shitting. The poo is actually soup that falls out of my ass without even pushing.

I have one question to the Universe: Where does all this excrement come from? 1998? I cannot comprehend it. And dear, sweet period – thanks for bleeding to death at the same time.

Thanks a bunch, cutest little 1.5 year old germ-carrier I’ve ever babysat (great-nephew, that’s right, son of a nephew),

Auntie

Monthly Series: Still not about my period

The Last Cylon: Who do I think it is this month?

For the 1.5 people who actually care might have kept track, I did not post a Monthly Series last month. I don’t remember what happened to September. Was there a September this year? Let’s just call it The Month of Wine.

Felix Gaeta. Not because his name sounds like a cat’s name, although he did get a tattoo of a tiger one time when he had too much Ambrosia. One time I got a tattoo of cat prints when I had too much Elysian, but anyway.

I wondered when he missed stabbing Baltar in the carotid artery (“butterfingers!”) after Baltar whispered something in Gaeta’s ear that really pissed him off. Then this season, he sang this beautiful song (I’m telling you, this show…!) about a lady who he wished would wake up – and then! and then! the Cylon Hybrid WOKE UP!

I mean, come on. Real obvious. Which is why he probably isn’t. Whatever.

Up thar in them woods again

I went up to winterize the place and wait for new cabin furniture to be delivered, and apparently the fur posse went up there to run batshit crazy the first coupla days – then couldn’t be bothered the rest of the time. I was all, damn sleepy heads – nobody will play fetch with me, guess I’ll watch Battlewhore Galactifrak.

I really need a job.

Tree Rats

Pervert.

(That is the squirrel ‘tween thar)