Loki Lyesmith
"In the aftermath of Battle, I went into the Temple,
I found a Baby, Small for a Giant's offspring.
Abandoned.
Suffering.
Left to die."
Thor - Odin recounts how he found Loki among the Frost Giants
Showing posts with label TheJamaicaInn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TheJamaicaInn. Show all posts
Saturday, January 21, 2012
My Loki
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
If Only…..
If the VP of Finance had kept his promise to me, we would never have gotten divorced. The condition of our reconciliation was that we leave California all together and we move to Chicago. His 2 sisters wanted him home, my sister was there and needed support, my Nephews & Niece were there and his Niece & Nephews were there, it made sense for us to repair our marriage with the support of our families.
We reconciled in Chicago in August 2001. He had moved there in May 2001 when we separated because he could not bear to be in the same city as me. His youngest sister took him in and he was repairing his life. By August when I flew out to visit my sister, he had been in therapy for 2 months and was working part time. We met in Lakeview on the North Side of Chicago and walked the tree line streets. We went to Wrigley Field and walked around a street fair. I still have the wax gargoyle, the book of poetry and the scarf/halter top be bought me in Chicago.
He was a changed man. He had returned to the VP of Finance that I fell in love with 7 years prior; the man who saved my life, who took care of me and who loved me. I fell in love all over again in those few days with him. We agreed to move to Chicago by October at the very latest ahead of the Winter Snow. His sisters were screening houses for us in the Lakeview area. I insisted we move to that neighborhood because he was obviously himself there. I got my husband back. If keeping him in an environment where he was happy and himself meant that I move to Chicago to keep my husband and save my marriage, then so be it. I loved him dearly.
Three weeks after my return from my Chicago vacation, the VP of Finance returned to California, returned to my bed, returned to our marriage. The purpose of him returning was to help me pack up and move the house to Chicago. His sister continued to screen and view houses while we packed and I found a job out there. Our target date was October 1, and we were both scheduling phone interviews with companies based in Chicago.
On September 11, the Twin Towers were attacked and destroyed in New York City. It changed everything. The Aerospace Industry crashed due to the use of Commercial Airlines in the attack. The downstream effect this had on the Manufacturing Industry at large, and the trickledown to Suppliers was overwhelming. Jobs were drying up, unemployment skyrocketed and we did not move to Chicago.
I kept pushing through January 2002, but it was useless. There were no jobs, the housing market in Chicago was booming – it was impossible. We remained in the green house in Manhattan Beach, we remained in California. We went to Chicago again for the Christmas and New Year's Holidays in December 2002. I tried pushing again to move back to Chicago, but by then he had become resolute in remaining in California. By February 2003, he had gotten into an argument with his youngest sister's husband and it caused a rift in his relationship with his family. Ho no longer wanted to move back, he wanted us to remain in the green house in Manhattan Beach. Where he was miserable, angry, and depressed.
When I broke my ankle in March 2003 it was the final straw. He snapped. In 2 short weeks he returned to the nasty mean angry emotionally & verbally abusive man I through out of my bed just one year earlier. In April, with a cast on my foot, I left him and drove to my mother's house. I stayed there for a week. She convinced me to return home and I told her it was pointless. She begged me. He begged me. So I went home. Within a week we had another fight. I called my mother and told both her and the VP of Finance that when the cast came off I was leaving. Period.
The cast came off in May and we attended the Renaissance Pleasure Faire with my Family on closing weekend. I was still looking for apartments; he was sleeping in the office; mom was telling me my ankle was too weak for me to move out.
Then the Audio Thief emailed me the first week of June.
I had used Divorce Wizards to draw up the divorce papers in 2001. I revised them, updated them, and we had them Notarized. On June 30, 2003 I went down to the Los Angeles Superior Court and I filed them. I called Divorce Wizards from the court house steps and gave them my Case Number.
The next day, July 1, 2 things happened. The VP of Finance moved out, and I received email confirmation of the legal separation pending divorce with a final decree date of January 20, 2004. I handed him the legal separation papers as he carried the last box out of the house. He had 30 days to contest the Divorce, otherwise it would be awarded by the courts and the decree issued as stated. He took no action. We were legally divorced 6 months later.
If only we had moved to Chicago.
We never would have gotten divorced.
We would have stayed in love and stayed married.
If only he had kept his promise to me.
This past January we have been divorced 7 years. We were married for 10.
We reconciled in Chicago in August 2001. He had moved there in May 2001 when we separated because he could not bear to be in the same city as me. His youngest sister took him in and he was repairing his life. By August when I flew out to visit my sister, he had been in therapy for 2 months and was working part time. We met in Lakeview on the North Side of Chicago and walked the tree line streets. We went to Wrigley Field and walked around a street fair. I still have the wax gargoyle, the book of poetry and the scarf/halter top be bought me in Chicago.
He was a changed man. He had returned to the VP of Finance that I fell in love with 7 years prior; the man who saved my life, who took care of me and who loved me. I fell in love all over again in those few days with him. We agreed to move to Chicago by October at the very latest ahead of the Winter Snow. His sisters were screening houses for us in the Lakeview area. I insisted we move to that neighborhood because he was obviously himself there. I got my husband back. If keeping him in an environment where he was happy and himself meant that I move to Chicago to keep my husband and save my marriage, then so be it. I loved him dearly.
Three weeks after my return from my Chicago vacation, the VP of Finance returned to California, returned to my bed, returned to our marriage. The purpose of him returning was to help me pack up and move the house to Chicago. His sister continued to screen and view houses while we packed and I found a job out there. Our target date was October 1, and we were both scheduling phone interviews with companies based in Chicago.
On September 11, the Twin Towers were attacked and destroyed in New York City. It changed everything. The Aerospace Industry crashed due to the use of Commercial Airlines in the attack. The downstream effect this had on the Manufacturing Industry at large, and the trickledown to Suppliers was overwhelming. Jobs were drying up, unemployment skyrocketed and we did not move to Chicago.
I kept pushing through January 2002, but it was useless. There were no jobs, the housing market in Chicago was booming – it was impossible. We remained in the green house in Manhattan Beach, we remained in California. We went to Chicago again for the Christmas and New Year's Holidays in December 2002. I tried pushing again to move back to Chicago, but by then he had become resolute in remaining in California. By February 2003, he had gotten into an argument with his youngest sister's husband and it caused a rift in his relationship with his family. Ho no longer wanted to move back, he wanted us to remain in the green house in Manhattan Beach. Where he was miserable, angry, and depressed.
When I broke my ankle in March 2003 it was the final straw. He snapped. In 2 short weeks he returned to the nasty mean angry emotionally & verbally abusive man I through out of my bed just one year earlier. In April, with a cast on my foot, I left him and drove to my mother's house. I stayed there for a week. She convinced me to return home and I told her it was pointless. She begged me. He begged me. So I went home. Within a week we had another fight. I called my mother and told both her and the VP of Finance that when the cast came off I was leaving. Period.
The cast came off in May and we attended the Renaissance Pleasure Faire with my Family on closing weekend. I was still looking for apartments; he was sleeping in the office; mom was telling me my ankle was too weak for me to move out.
Then the Audio Thief emailed me the first week of June.
I had used Divorce Wizards to draw up the divorce papers in 2001. I revised them, updated them, and we had them Notarized. On June 30, 2003 I went down to the Los Angeles Superior Court and I filed them. I called Divorce Wizards from the court house steps and gave them my Case Number.
The next day, July 1, 2 things happened. The VP of Finance moved out, and I received email confirmation of the legal separation pending divorce with a final decree date of January 20, 2004. I handed him the legal separation papers as he carried the last box out of the house. He had 30 days to contest the Divorce, otherwise it would be awarded by the courts and the decree issued as stated. He took no action. We were legally divorced 6 months later.
If only we had moved to Chicago.
We never would have gotten divorced.
We would have stayed in love and stayed married.
If only he had kept his promise to me.
This past January we have been divorced 7 years. We were married for 10.
Monday, February 28, 2011
My Main Obsession
My Main Obsession
July 4th weekend 2006
I was invited to Las Vegas for a Jazz & Wine Festival at the Mount Charleston Lodge.
The Jazz was fantastic, the wine was mediocre (Las Vegas was just getting their Wine Tasting’s off the ground), and the afternoon was mild and pleasant. The local vendor’s who were invited up for the afternoon included an emerging Las Vegas artist, Jennifer Main. She had the original oil on canvas Playin’ Footsies on display. I ordered a Matted Print of which she mailed to me. I later had it professionally framed, and it became one of the first pieces of art work that I had discovered on my own and loved in it’s own right. It wasn’t the result of a class or a study, there was no outside influence.
I have had a fascination with Magical Realism in art for as long as I can remember. It has taken many forms over the years, Fairies, Witches, Vampires, Werewolves, Greek Mythology, but one artist has remained with me for the past 20 years. Michael Parkes. His collection is very expensive so I have only two pieces. One is a poster of Creation of Man which I had professionally mounted several years after I had the courage to take it out of it’s preserved state. The second piece is a very small print of Last Flight 1987 which was originally a gift card given to me with a Birthday Present in 1993. I have come across an oil on canvas back in 2003, but it was bought and I have not found anything that I could afford since.
Jennifer Main’s art work gave me the same feel of a magical space occupied by visions and color. No, my discovery of Jennifer Main was purely the result of Life’s Meanderings. When you just let go and wander. I literally Stumbled upon this find and I was very proud of myself for my accomplishment. Little did I know that 4 years later Jennifer Main would take Las Vegas my force and stake her claim as THE artist of the Las Vegas Valley.
January 2007
I moved to Las Vegas for work and in the process of settling in to the new City, I discovered First Friday’s Art Walk in Downtown. I attended my first “First Friday” February 2007. It was small, and seemed to be the “excuse” for the under 21 crowd to have a reason for “going somewhere”. I was in the process of walking out when The Wanderer Whispered to me that the formidable warehouse up ahead might be interesting. As always, employing the Adventure Model to discovering new places, the real find, the secret, to First Friday was at the end of the street, the very crowded and very hard to navigate Arts Factory . To my amazement, after following my nose down this hallway and stumbling down that corridor, I found Jennifer Main in one of the Galleries. I nearly cried with joy when I rounded the corner and saw those vibrant colors and broad strokes splashed large and loud “Hello Friend!”. I bought 2 more Matted Prints that night, The Thinker Series Meant to Be and Story Behind the Couple.
I introduced myself to Jennifer and to my surprise she remembered my order from the Jazz Festival in July. I could tell she was surprised that I found her again literally by chance. Compared to her Gallery at the Arts Factory in Las Vegas, what I saw at her display in July 2006 at Mt Charleston was paltry. She was literally bursting with color, emotion, beauty, and the visual experience. I don’t ask her about her inspirations, I don’t care what they are. I sometimes read about them or over hear at the Gallery, but her work, for me, is intensely personal.
Sounds horrid, no? Not really. Not if you truly understand Magical Realism. The Artist is the Messenger. Their use of visual material to deliver to you, the Audience, that experience of being taken to another place/time/space to experience something so intimate and personal is the only purpose to the Art form. Magical Realism is, at it’s very core, a self centered indulgent journey through one’s own Psyche.
September 2007
I had entered into a silent auction for Never Alone, and surprisingly I won. When her Gallery contacted me, I at first thought it was a joke. The assistant was rather upset that I didn’t believe I had won. It was very exciting to me – picking up the piece on a Saturday afternoon, when no one was around, the Arts Factory rather quiet and surprisingly empty. It was really odd to be in the Gallery with no one but the artists around.
This piece is a perfect example of how personal the interpretation of Magical Realism truly can be. My view of this piece has nothing to do with Jennifer’s official entry on it, and it is again different from another person – all three interpretations completely and vastly different – personal.
I could never, ever afford Jennifer’s originals. I mean, I would have to save for 3-6 months to even begin considering a piece. So the fact I won the Glicee on Canvas, one of only 50 (I think, I’ll edit it later), was huge to me. An artist I discovered all by myself, in the same genre of what I like and what appeals to me, sophisticated….. and I had a real canvas. Serious!!!
Every time I looked at Never Alone, I could not help but look at Creation of Man. In fact I had them hanging on the same wall for a while just so I could look at them both when I walked into the room. The two most important pieces in my collection.
2008,
I picked up 3 more matted prints, Vino Rosso, Mariposa, and Up to Something. I spent sometime looking for these prints because they were bought specifically for my “Craft Room” in the Las Vegas House. My wine collection and the wet bar were both in that room and I wanted the wine theme to continue. I also had these prints professionally mounted.
2009,
I had to put a moratorium on all things Main. It was becoming quite disturbing. I am only grateful someone else bought Dance of Passion before I could.
I have not been able to find any other artist who captures color so vibrantly, and who maintains the essence of Magical Realism – well, other than Michael Parkes.
As of now, 2011, I am contemplating a lift on the moratorium so that I can justify the purchase of an Embellished Glicee Print on Canvas of Dance of Passion. I mean…… I haven’t bought anything except a Calendar since 2010. Seems reasonable, right?
If you are in Las Vegas, make sure you stop by Jennifer’s Gallery.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
A Return to the Castle
For as long as I can remember, I have referred to Bunker Hill in Los Angeles as The Castle.
I think it is because, when my Grandfather had retired and was a Tour Bus Driver 3 days a week to curb his endless boredom and to fund the cost of the bricks for the fireplace at the Cottage, he told me that Bunker Hill was the real life version of the Disneyland Castle, also known as Cinderella's Castle.
Keep in mind that this was the story he told me when Disneyland was sitting in the middle of nothing but Orange Groves. The Disneyland of 2011 is nowhere near the look and feel of the Disneyland of 1972. And neither is Bunker Hill.
Over 30 years after he told me that story, the Disney Concert Hall makes the fantasy a reality.
At the moment I am dreaming of a return to the Castle on Bunker Hill. Specifically California Plaza I & II .....
LA Museum of Contemporary Art (*drool*) ....
Disney Concert Hall (yes it's worth it) ....
Dorthy Chandler Pavilion/Mark Taper Auditorium (worth it only if you pay for Valet).
If you are a corporate drone, grinding away at the 9-5, M-F life that is the Project Manager, Bunker Hill is far and away one of the Top Two - yes I said 2. While you are grinding away for the Corporate Beast, you are surrounded in Beauty.
The view from Cal Plaza in every direction above the 10th floor is simply amazing.
I have never been happier than when I spent 60 hours a week on Bunker Hill!
I think it is because, when my Grandfather had retired and was a Tour Bus Driver 3 days a week to curb his endless boredom and to fund the cost of the bricks for the fireplace at the Cottage, he told me that Bunker Hill was the real life version of the Disneyland Castle, also known as Cinderella's Castle.
Keep in mind that this was the story he told me when Disneyland was sitting in the middle of nothing but Orange Groves. The Disneyland of 2011 is nowhere near the look and feel of the Disneyland of 1972. And neither is Bunker Hill.
Over 30 years after he told me that story, the Disney Concert Hall makes the fantasy a reality.
At the moment I am dreaming of a return to the Castle on Bunker Hill. Specifically California Plaza I & II .....
LA Museum of Contemporary Art (*drool*) ....
Disney Concert Hall (yes it's worth it) ....
Dorthy Chandler Pavilion/Mark Taper Auditorium (worth it only if you pay for Valet).
If you are a corporate drone, grinding away at the 9-5, M-F life that is the Project Manager, Bunker Hill is far and away one of the Top Two - yes I said 2. While you are grinding away for the Corporate Beast, you are surrounded in Beauty.The view from Cal Plaza in every direction above the 10th floor is simply amazing.
In addition, the hassle of traffic and commuting is completely removed with the Metro - The Rd/Purple lines connect to every Metro Line in the system, including Rail, making getting to Bunker Hill very easy.
I have never been happier than when I spent 60 hours a week on Bunker Hill!
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Slapping the Other Cheek - Maureen Dowd 11/14/2004
Slapping the Other Cheek
November 14, 2004
By MAUREEN DOWD
You'd think the one good thing about merging church and state would be that politics would be suffused with glistening Christian sentiments like "love thy neighbor," "turn the other cheek," "good will toward men," "blessed be the peacemakers" and "judge not lest you be judged."
Yet somehow I'm not getting a peace, charity, tolerance and forgiveness vibe from the conservatives and evangelicals who claim to have put their prodigal son back in office.
I'm getting more the feel of a vengeful mob - revved up by rectitude - running around with torches and hatchets after heathens and pagans and infidels.
Full Story
I hope after reading this article, you understand what it is YOU have to do in order to maintain your Civil Liberties.
No matter how much you deny it, a Crusade was launched on September 11, 2001. The Muslims attacked the Christians and the Christians retaliated with the force of 10,000 Orks. Three years later and the Crusades are well under way in what can only be a called a success by the standards set by the Media and the Liberal Pagans.
Now the Conservative Christians in the US Government want to turn their power on to the American People. One God, One Religion, One Dogma, especially at the destruction of all other Gods, Religions, Dogmas.
The American People have 4 years to contribute to the Crusades against the Liberal Pagans. The men who founded this Nation made sure that the People would have a say in how the government would be run. Four years is a very short time to get a nation which has settled into complacency and apathy, mobilized around a core set of issues and into the Polls.
I've come to the realization that 100% of the voting population, whether their vote was counted or not, spoke up on November 2 and said firmly "You have 4 Years to Represent Me or else." Liberal Pagans told their Representatives and their President they want results, they want representation. The Voter turn out spoke volumes about the resolve of both Liberals and Conservatives.
The Founders didn't give the People too much time to mobilize, but just enough. They knew this time would come, and they put in place mechanisms to slow its pace to a crawl, if not stop it all together.
The beauty of the mechanisms is that they are so simple. All we as a nation have to do is vote. The 2004 Elections are a clear indication that the Government was caught off guard by the sheer number of Citizens who showed up to vote, and the Government Representives were certainly surprised by the number of Constituents who made their voices heard on Election Day.
My Moral Issues are driven by the same stimulus as my Conservative Peers: Faith. My Grandparents came to this country for that very reason. Their dream was to live in a Country where they were truly free to live as they wished, without starvation, forced religion, and poverty for any who did not conform (or Confirm as the Irish Catholics would say).
When I look at our Democracy, I can’t help but compare the ideals and “dogma” of Democracy with those outlined in the Holy Bible. I only see contradictions, separations, constriction and disproportion.
There can only be two choices in the matter: allow the Majority (Conservatives) to mold the Constitution to conform to biblical normalcy, or stand firm in the convictions of Democracy and stand firmly for a compromise between Liberal and Conservative views of our Government.
We have four years. The next Election will determine far more than our next President.
November 14, 2004
By MAUREEN DOWD
You'd think the one good thing about merging church and state would be that politics would be suffused with glistening Christian sentiments like "love thy neighbor," "turn the other cheek," "good will toward men," "blessed be the peacemakers" and "judge not lest you be judged."
Yet somehow I'm not getting a peace, charity, tolerance and forgiveness vibe from the conservatives and evangelicals who claim to have put their prodigal son back in office.
I'm getting more the feel of a vengeful mob - revved up by rectitude - running around with torches and hatchets after heathens and pagans and infidels.
Full Story
I hope after reading this article, you understand what it is YOU have to do in order to maintain your Civil Liberties.
No matter how much you deny it, a Crusade was launched on September 11, 2001. The Muslims attacked the Christians and the Christians retaliated with the force of 10,000 Orks. Three years later and the Crusades are well under way in what can only be a called a success by the standards set by the Media and the Liberal Pagans.
Now the Conservative Christians in the US Government want to turn their power on to the American People. One God, One Religion, One Dogma, especially at the destruction of all other Gods, Religions, Dogmas.
The American People have 4 years to contribute to the Crusades against the Liberal Pagans. The men who founded this Nation made sure that the People would have a say in how the government would be run. Four years is a very short time to get a nation which has settled into complacency and apathy, mobilized around a core set of issues and into the Polls.
I've come to the realization that 100% of the voting population, whether their vote was counted or not, spoke up on November 2 and said firmly "You have 4 Years to Represent Me or else." Liberal Pagans told their Representatives and their President they want results, they want representation. The Voter turn out spoke volumes about the resolve of both Liberals and Conservatives.
The Founders didn't give the People too much time to mobilize, but just enough. They knew this time would come, and they put in place mechanisms to slow its pace to a crawl, if not stop it all together.
The beauty of the mechanisms is that they are so simple. All we as a nation have to do is vote. The 2004 Elections are a clear indication that the Government was caught off guard by the sheer number of Citizens who showed up to vote, and the Government Representives were certainly surprised by the number of Constituents who made their voices heard on Election Day.
My Moral Issues are driven by the same stimulus as my Conservative Peers: Faith. My Grandparents came to this country for that very reason. Their dream was to live in a Country where they were truly free to live as they wished, without starvation, forced religion, and poverty for any who did not conform (or Confirm as the Irish Catholics would say).
When I look at our Democracy, I can’t help but compare the ideals and “dogma” of Democracy with those outlined in the Holy Bible. I only see contradictions, separations, constriction and disproportion.
There can only be two choices in the matter: allow the Majority (Conservatives) to mold the Constitution to conform to biblical normalcy, or stand firm in the convictions of Democracy and stand firmly for a compromise between Liberal and Conservative views of our Government.
We have four years. The next Election will determine far more than our next President.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
10 Things I Like About Him
He is much smarter than he pretends to be
He has nice hands
He appreciates clever alliteration
He casually drops dead-pan puns
He drinks scotch (yes, I noticed)
He's tall
He's a gentleman
He asked before he kissed me
He looks great in a hat
He appreciates “Happy Pants”
Soooooooooo, I could probably make time in my schedule to see him again; reschedule this meeting, cancel that appointment, etc, etc, etc
And the technology thing is ok.... my girlfriend broke out in a rash when her husband hooked up cable, developed hives when he installed DSL - she HATES technology!! LOL
I’m going to stop talking now and hit the "send" button
March 2004
He has nice hands
He appreciates clever alliteration
He casually drops dead-pan puns
He drinks scotch (yes, I noticed)
He's tall
He's a gentleman
He asked before he kissed me
He looks great in a hat
He appreciates “Happy Pants”
Soooooooooo, I could probably make time in my schedule to see him again; reschedule this meeting, cancel that appointment, etc, etc, etc
And the technology thing is ok.... my girlfriend broke out in a rash when her husband hooked up cable, developed hives when he installed DSL - she HATES technology!! LOL
I’m going to stop talking now and hit the "send" button
March 2004
Monday, July 12, 2010
Not for You – March 2006
It wasn't the messenger tone that made me catch my breath, it was the name in the notification window. I found myself staring at the notification, completely still, not even breathing. The window sank into the system tray and I exhaled.
16 months nearly to the day since I last saw him......
14 months since the last time I got a text message from him......
I had been successful in surpressing all thought of him for nearly 10 months when the window popped up and invaded my screen. I had finally accepted the fact that he wasn't going to call or answer my calls; email or answer my emails... As I pondered the notification window, I had a momentary revelation that I had even gone days at a time without his face
running through my head or remembering how great we were when we were a "we". Why now? Could he sense my withdrawal? Did it suddenly dawn on him that the status messages on my Messenger were not meant for him? Did he wonder about the man I was giving my x's and o's to? Was he afraid he might actually be losing me this time?
After the window sinks away into the system tray, I regain my clarity. I know that he does not want me - because he doesn't... it's that he loves me to love him and he doesn't want to lose the coast line I allow him to navigate from, the safety net I provide him with when he starts to get nervous about another gig in another far away country.
He builds his self confidence at the expens of mine... but not anymore!
I know I am supposed to do the girl thing, the submissive thing, and IM him. Inquire about his health, his success, his manlihood. But I just don't have the energy. For the first time in my adult life, I can not think of a single thing to say to him, and don't care to come up with anything witty. I think about the possibilities and I am overwhelmed with a feeling of apathy. Because I just don't care. For the first time since coming back to California, I can say I don't care.
The very thought of allowing him access to the intimacies of my true self is frightening. I just can not give up me to be loved by him. I don't even want to be his friend, that's how far I've come in nearly 2 years.
About the only pang of sadness I feel when recalling those days is for 1k. How much does that really say about the deph of my emotion?
My need to hide from him outweighs my desire to communicate with the cute engineer, and so I change settings and I cease the status messages. Or am I just continuing to wait........
16 months nearly to the day since I last saw him......
14 months since the last time I got a text message from him......
I had been successful in surpressing all thought of him for nearly 10 months when the window popped up and invaded my screen. I had finally accepted the fact that he wasn't going to call or answer my calls; email or answer my emails... As I pondered the notification window, I had a momentary revelation that I had even gone days at a time without his face
running through my head or remembering how great we were when we were a "we". Why now? Could he sense my withdrawal? Did it suddenly dawn on him that the status messages on my Messenger were not meant for him? Did he wonder about the man I was giving my x's and o's to? Was he afraid he might actually be losing me this time?
After the window sinks away into the system tray, I regain my clarity. I know that he does not want me - because he doesn't... it's that he loves me to love him and he doesn't want to lose the coast line I allow him to navigate from, the safety net I provide him with when he starts to get nervous about another gig in another far away country.
He builds his self confidence at the expens of mine... but not anymore!
I know I am supposed to do the girl thing, the submissive thing, and IM him. Inquire about his health, his success, his manlihood. But I just don't have the energy. For the first time in my adult life, I can not think of a single thing to say to him, and don't care to come up with anything witty. I think about the possibilities and I am overwhelmed with a feeling of apathy. Because I just don't care. For the first time since coming back to California, I can say I don't care.
The very thought of allowing him access to the intimacies of my true self is frightening. I just can not give up me to be loved by him. I don't even want to be his friend, that's how far I've come in nearly 2 years.
About the only pang of sadness I feel when recalling those days is for 1k. How much does that really say about the deph of my emotion?
My need to hide from him outweighs my desire to communicate with the cute engineer, and so I change settings and I cease the status messages. Or am I just continuing to wait........
Raccoons - January 2005
Last night at about 2am, my dog Archie went ballistic with "securing the perimeter". He dove off the bed and charged the balcony, prudently stopping at the thresh hold to wait for mom to "come get it!" I live in a "tree house" of sorts, upstairs and surrounded on 2 sides by large mature leafy trees. I thought I was chasing off a cat. It came back. I thought it was a possum, so I took the broom to it and chased it down the sidewalk.
Third time at the balcony with Archie going nuts, I look out the patio door and a masked creature stared back at me defiantly. I ran around the house in a panic, closing doors, and windows and realized *that* activity was pointless, little buggers can open doors. I went to the balcony and watched as not one raccoon, but 2, slowly and calmly climbed down the stairs. I decided to reason with them. "I live here," I said, "this is my house. You can go live in the back yard. There are plenty of bushes and trees back there, go make a nice den. But this is my house and you can't live here." Amazingly they went to the back yard.
About 20 minutes later I hear them crashing about in the back yard. They knocked something over and probably scared themselves silly. It got quiet immediately, nevertheless. Within a few minutes, I hear one of them. She parked herself under my bedroom window and chirruped, incessantly. So I got up and went to the balcony. The male, at least 20lbs, very large, very fluffy and a dark grey coat with a perfectly ringed tail and gorgeous black mask is looking up at me from the mid-point of the tree at my balcony. We are literally eye to eye. She is chirruping and scuttling down the side of the apartment and rounds the corner, looks up at me, puts her hands in front of her and chirrups at me! She is about 15lbs, beautiful light grey coat, and the sides of her belly are plump and oddly shaped. This kid is ready to pop! Her tail has perfect rings and her mask is just as gorgeous but it's a bit spottled and striped at the edges. He slowly climbs down to the ground and walks over to sit by her. They mill around on the entry and then he jumps 4 feet straight up, and on to the entry ledge, and looks up at me.
So I say, "fine stay here but you can't come inside." I go back to bed. Within a few minutes the chirruping starts beneath my window. I get up and this time he is sitting on the front steps and she is peaking around the corner. At this point I realize that unless I give them something, this is going to go on all night!
I do the worst thing imaginable and the number one thing against the rules of interacting with Urban Wildlife - I give them a plate of dog kibble. At first I threw a handful down to see if they would even eat it.... I mean why waste perfectly good dog kibble right? Well they scarffed it up. So I went down and put the plate on the steps. By the time I got back up to the balcony to watch them they were sitting around the plate feasting. They ate for about 10 minutes, or half the plate, they milled around.
I heard chirruping from the front sidewalk so I go to the front wall of the patio and look down: She is sitting on one of the rocks in the front garden sitting on her haunches looking up at me. Her hands are in front of her and clasped. She tosses her head this way and that, and the male walked up behind her in the low plants and off they went. I guess they were just "passing through". She knew I'd give her food if she asked clearly, it just took her several tries! Tenacious little devil! I'm sure they will be back at some point. Probably with the entire family! And yes, I will do the dumb thing and feed them. What? I'm going to let a Raccoon go hungry?
Third time at the balcony with Archie going nuts, I look out the patio door and a masked creature stared back at me defiantly. I ran around the house in a panic, closing doors, and windows and realized *that* activity was pointless, little buggers can open doors. I went to the balcony and watched as not one raccoon, but 2, slowly and calmly climbed down the stairs. I decided to reason with them. "I live here," I said, "this is my house. You can go live in the back yard. There are plenty of bushes and trees back there, go make a nice den. But this is my house and you can't live here." Amazingly they went to the back yard.
About 20 minutes later I hear them crashing about in the back yard. They knocked something over and probably scared themselves silly. It got quiet immediately, nevertheless. Within a few minutes, I hear one of them. She parked herself under my bedroom window and chirruped, incessantly. So I got up and went to the balcony. The male, at least 20lbs, very large, very fluffy and a dark grey coat with a perfectly ringed tail and gorgeous black mask is looking up at me from the mid-point of the tree at my balcony. We are literally eye to eye. She is chirruping and scuttling down the side of the apartment and rounds the corner, looks up at me, puts her hands in front of her and chirrups at me! She is about 15lbs, beautiful light grey coat, and the sides of her belly are plump and oddly shaped. This kid is ready to pop! Her tail has perfect rings and her mask is just as gorgeous but it's a bit spottled and striped at the edges. He slowly climbs down to the ground and walks over to sit by her. They mill around on the entry and then he jumps 4 feet straight up, and on to the entry ledge, and looks up at me.
So I say, "fine stay here but you can't come inside." I go back to bed. Within a few minutes the chirruping starts beneath my window. I get up and this time he is sitting on the front steps and she is peaking around the corner. At this point I realize that unless I give them something, this is going to go on all night!
I do the worst thing imaginable and the number one thing against the rules of interacting with Urban Wildlife - I give them a plate of dog kibble. At first I threw a handful down to see if they would even eat it.... I mean why waste perfectly good dog kibble right? Well they scarffed it up. So I went down and put the plate on the steps. By the time I got back up to the balcony to watch them they were sitting around the plate feasting. They ate for about 10 minutes, or half the plate, they milled around.
I heard chirruping from the front sidewalk so I go to the front wall of the patio and look down: She is sitting on one of the rocks in the front garden sitting on her haunches looking up at me. Her hands are in front of her and clasped. She tosses her head this way and that, and the male walked up behind her in the low plants and off they went. I guess they were just "passing through". She knew I'd give her food if she asked clearly, it just took her several tries! Tenacious little devil! I'm sure they will be back at some point. Probably with the entire family! And yes, I will do the dumb thing and feed them. What? I'm going to let a Raccoon go hungry?
Election Maps - 2005
I have been fascinated with the Civil War Society since I read Margaret Murray's "Gone with the Wind" the Summer I spent lounging at the side of the pool between 8th and 9th Grade. I hadn't discovered the thrill of making out in the back seat of a parked car yet; boys were still my adversaries, my opponents and my fiercest competitors.
It's interesting to read historical fiction through the eyes of Society Women, rather than from the POV of the Political Scientist. Let's face it, to the victors do the spoils of war go, and one of those spoils is the control of History. Women, however, have Family Histories, and for them, it doesn't matter who signed what treaty, what matters is what happened to their family and how.
I am a huge Tori Amos fan, and her Album concept, "Scarlet's Walk" takes you through the US through the eyes of a woman. All of the fascination with society in the Pre-Civil War era came flooding back. This website of the maps has only compounded it. I began looking at society after the war.
The Summer I spent between 11th and 12th grades working at an Amusement Park, fooling around with the cute boyfriend at the Pool house, whose mother was Iriquoi and one of the most amazing women from my childhood, I became fascinated with the Pre Indian Wars Society.
I realized many years ago the subtle connection between the two post-war Societies and was amazed. In each situation, the United States was expanding it’s territories. The other similarity I saw was the idea that the Underground Slave Trains assisting Runaway Slaves in Pre-Civil War Society, were very close to or in some rare cases actually follow the same paths used by the US Government to march the First Nation Tribes onto Reservations.
My first thought when I saw the maps was “Freedom for me but not for You.”
My second thought was “This is what Iraq will look like in 50 years”.
Am I supposed to feel lucky that I live in California? A Blue State?
But then we can’t forget the Mexican-American War. That time the US let the Catholic Church fight the battle, after all the US had already spent millions “relocating” the First Nations, this business of conquering was getting expensive. And let’s face it, the Catholics did those Missions up right. Besides, the Gold Rush was well underway in California and there was enough to share with the Catholics for “housing” those pesky Mexicans, the Tongas and any other “Savages” left roaming the Golden foothills of California.
The US has never dealt well with it's conquests, and examining the Post War Societies in the US after the Indian Wars, the Mexican War and the Civil War the History of the US appears violent, hostile and oppressive.
I said in my last essay that I was disappointed and saddened that I am considered a Radical Liberal simply because I believe in the philosophies of a Democracy. These maps and looking at the collective Histories of each of the Red States, I am even more shocked.
It's been nearly 160 years since a cease fire was declared in the Mexican War, and despite holding nearly 46% of the demographic population in the Southwest, Mexican Americans are continuing to live in Poverty.
It's been nerly 140 years since end of the Civil War, and African Americans continue to fight for their Voice in the American Democracy. Racial Profiling against Black Americans is probably the most overt act of oppression the US Government perpetrates against any one race within its citizenry.
It's been nearly 115 years since the last Indian War was fought, and the vanquished First Nations are still suffering. No amount of Tribal Contracts or Gaming Casinos can reverse the desimation of language, arts, culture and spirituality of the Native Society.
The common thread here? None of the above people's mentioned are White.
"Freedom for Me but not for You"
The ideals behind the histories of the “Red” states are certainly not democratic. They deal in oppression and tyranny and violence against another human being. The maps have made me take a close look at where I stand in society, and reflect on how my “Moral Values” compare with the “Red” States.
Can I find a compromise between their values and mine? Maybe, in some cases. However, when the issues are placed in a cauldron and rendered down, I keep coming back to God, Guns and Gays. And I can only find a compromise in one: Guns.
If I am labeled a Radical Liberal for my “Moral Values”, then I would have to turn the mirror around and label my Peers in the Red States Radical Conservatives. I believe that history has proven throughout the millennia that when it comes to Democracy & Freedom, a Radical Liberal is preferable to a Society driven by Fear and Oppression.
Reference Links:
US-Indian Wars Named Campaigns:
http://www.army.mil/cmh-pg/reference/iwcmp.htm
Trail of Tears Map with named States:
http://ngeorgia.com/history/trailoftearsmap.html
See pictures and compare!! (Thanks to Yunique over at African American Wiccans http://groups.yahoo.com/group/African-American_Wiccans/ for the Map links)
http://www.learner.org/biographyofamerica/prog10/maps/
http://election.cbsnews.com/election2004/
To compare the maps next to each other see this link:
http://sensoryoverload.typepad.com/sensory_overload/2004/11/free_states_vs_.html
Indian Wars
1790 – 1891
Us-Mexican War
1846-1848
California Gold Rush
1848-1853
Civil War
1861-1865
It's interesting to read historical fiction through the eyes of Society Women, rather than from the POV of the Political Scientist. Let's face it, to the victors do the spoils of war go, and one of those spoils is the control of History. Women, however, have Family Histories, and for them, it doesn't matter who signed what treaty, what matters is what happened to their family and how.
I am a huge Tori Amos fan, and her Album concept, "Scarlet's Walk" takes you through the US through the eyes of a woman. All of the fascination with society in the Pre-Civil War era came flooding back. This website of the maps has only compounded it. I began looking at society after the war.
The Summer I spent between 11th and 12th grades working at an Amusement Park, fooling around with the cute boyfriend at the Pool house, whose mother was Iriquoi and one of the most amazing women from my childhood, I became fascinated with the Pre Indian Wars Society.
I realized many years ago the subtle connection between the two post-war Societies and was amazed. In each situation, the United States was expanding it’s territories. The other similarity I saw was the idea that the Underground Slave Trains assisting Runaway Slaves in Pre-Civil War Society, were very close to or in some rare cases actually follow the same paths used by the US Government to march the First Nation Tribes onto Reservations.
My first thought when I saw the maps was “Freedom for me but not for You.”
My second thought was “This is what Iraq will look like in 50 years”.
Am I supposed to feel lucky that I live in California? A Blue State?
But then we can’t forget the Mexican-American War. That time the US let the Catholic Church fight the battle, after all the US had already spent millions “relocating” the First Nations, this business of conquering was getting expensive. And let’s face it, the Catholics did those Missions up right. Besides, the Gold Rush was well underway in California and there was enough to share with the Catholics for “housing” those pesky Mexicans, the Tongas and any other “Savages” left roaming the Golden foothills of California.
The US has never dealt well with it's conquests, and examining the Post War Societies in the US after the Indian Wars, the Mexican War and the Civil War the History of the US appears violent, hostile and oppressive.
I said in my last essay that I was disappointed and saddened that I am considered a Radical Liberal simply because I believe in the philosophies of a Democracy. These maps and looking at the collective Histories of each of the Red States, I am even more shocked.
It's been nearly 160 years since a cease fire was declared in the Mexican War, and despite holding nearly 46% of the demographic population in the Southwest, Mexican Americans are continuing to live in Poverty.
It's been nerly 140 years since end of the Civil War, and African Americans continue to fight for their Voice in the American Democracy. Racial Profiling against Black Americans is probably the most overt act of oppression the US Government perpetrates against any one race within its citizenry.
It's been nearly 115 years since the last Indian War was fought, and the vanquished First Nations are still suffering. No amount of Tribal Contracts or Gaming Casinos can reverse the desimation of language, arts, culture and spirituality of the Native Society.
The common thread here? None of the above people's mentioned are White.
"Freedom for Me but not for You"
The ideals behind the histories of the “Red” states are certainly not democratic. They deal in oppression and tyranny and violence against another human being. The maps have made me take a close look at where I stand in society, and reflect on how my “Moral Values” compare with the “Red” States.
Can I find a compromise between their values and mine? Maybe, in some cases. However, when the issues are placed in a cauldron and rendered down, I keep coming back to God, Guns and Gays. And I can only find a compromise in one: Guns.
If I am labeled a Radical Liberal for my “Moral Values”, then I would have to turn the mirror around and label my Peers in the Red States Radical Conservatives. I believe that history has proven throughout the millennia that when it comes to Democracy & Freedom, a Radical Liberal is preferable to a Society driven by Fear and Oppression.
Reference Links:
US-Indian Wars Named Campaigns:
http://www.army.mil/cmh-pg/reference/iwcmp.htm
Trail of Tears Map with named States:
http://ngeorgia.com/history/trailoftearsmap.html
See pictures and compare!! (Thanks to Yunique over at African American Wiccans http://groups.yahoo.com/group/African-American_Wiccans/ for the Map links)
http://www.learner.org/biographyofamerica/prog10/maps/
http://election.cbsnews.com/election2004/
To compare the maps next to each other see this link:
http://sensoryoverload.typepad.com/sensory_overload/2004/11/free_states_vs_.html
Indian Wars
1790 – 1891
Us-Mexican War
1846-1848
California Gold Rush
1848-1853
Civil War
1861-1865
Waiting for the Evidence to Melt
Mom asked me to play golf with her today. Of course I said yes, you don't say no to golf.
I tried leaving the house and continually got called back upstairs for one forgotten item or another. Finally I called mom:
"You called a few hours ago and said you were worried, what sort of feeling did you have?"
"I don't know, it was from last night, the job, you sounded so depressed and I was worried."
"You're sure? Nothing else?"
"No, now get in the car and get up here."
Driving north on the 710 a few minutes later, my car starts to die, losing speed but not power. I smell burning, something is on fire! There is black pieces of rubber flying off the side of the car and I realize I have a flat tire. I'm stuck on the center median with cars flying past at speeds of well over 80 mph.
I should be proud. There aren't many people who can boast about the CHP shutting down 4 lanes of heavy traffic so you can limp across the highway. *raises hand* Yep, that was me!! Shut down the 710 during rush hour. Oh the power I weild!
So, that situation gets handled and I arrive at mom's house just in time to help her burn down the canyon. Yes, you read that right, she torched the Little Tujunga Canyon all by herself.
Why you may ask? Oh it's very logical. She was lighting mosquito citronella incense coils and instead of blowing out the flame to let the smoke smoulder and do it's job of chasing off mosquitos, she let the flame burn high and strong. So high and so strong that it torched the canyon.
As I'm surrounded by 4ft flames on all sides with my back to a propane tank and nothing but a shovel, she brings me...... ice.
No, not water.
No, not a fire extinguisher.... ice.
Meanwhile, the flames have spread down into the canyon about 30 yards, and is on it's way up the hill onto the bounding neighbors yards. I choose to fight the flames closest to the propane tank, at least I can stave off an explosion, if nothing else. Mom, in the meantime, is lining the fence with.... ice.
The fire department was called to a rubbish fire. The chief saw the fire from across the canyon and had the presence of mind to cancel the rubbish fire and call for a full on Brush Fire team. Afterall this is California and if the hills aren't sliding in mud they are on fire. I was happy the professionals arrived and I could lay down my shovel.
The chief looked around when all was said and done:
"I have just one question", as he looks at the scorched earth and rubble that used to be the 100yd by 50yd patch of ground at the edge of Mom's backyard. "Who's idea was it to use ice?"
As we were sitting over 22oz margaritas and 20oz something-with-3-kinds-of-rum, hair singed, clothes smelling like a camp fire, and dirt covering a great majority of our limbs, Mom looks at me and says:
"You know, I really thought the evidence would melt."
I tried leaving the house and continually got called back upstairs for one forgotten item or another. Finally I called mom:
"You called a few hours ago and said you were worried, what sort of feeling did you have?"
"I don't know, it was from last night, the job, you sounded so depressed and I was worried."
"You're sure? Nothing else?"
"No, now get in the car and get up here."
Driving north on the 710 a few minutes later, my car starts to die, losing speed but not power. I smell burning, something is on fire! There is black pieces of rubber flying off the side of the car and I realize I have a flat tire. I'm stuck on the center median with cars flying past at speeds of well over 80 mph.
I should be proud. There aren't many people who can boast about the CHP shutting down 4 lanes of heavy traffic so you can limp across the highway. *raises hand* Yep, that was me!! Shut down the 710 during rush hour. Oh the power I weild!
So, that situation gets handled and I arrive at mom's house just in time to help her burn down the canyon. Yes, you read that right, she torched the Little Tujunga Canyon all by herself.
Why you may ask? Oh it's very logical. She was lighting mosquito citronella incense coils and instead of blowing out the flame to let the smoke smoulder and do it's job of chasing off mosquitos, she let the flame burn high and strong. So high and so strong that it torched the canyon.
As I'm surrounded by 4ft flames on all sides with my back to a propane tank and nothing but a shovel, she brings me...... ice.
No, not water.
No, not a fire extinguisher.... ice.
Meanwhile, the flames have spread down into the canyon about 30 yards, and is on it's way up the hill onto the bounding neighbors yards. I choose to fight the flames closest to the propane tank, at least I can stave off an explosion, if nothing else. Mom, in the meantime, is lining the fence with.... ice.
The fire department was called to a rubbish fire. The chief saw the fire from across the canyon and had the presence of mind to cancel the rubbish fire and call for a full on Brush Fire team. Afterall this is California and if the hills aren't sliding in mud they are on fire. I was happy the professionals arrived and I could lay down my shovel.
The chief looked around when all was said and done:
"I have just one question", as he looks at the scorched earth and rubble that used to be the 100yd by 50yd patch of ground at the edge of Mom's backyard. "Who's idea was it to use ice?"
As we were sitting over 22oz margaritas and 20oz something-with-3-kinds-of-rum, hair singed, clothes smelling like a camp fire, and dirt covering a great majority of our limbs, Mom looks at me and says:
"You know, I really thought the evidence would melt."
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