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A bit of narcissism

Friday's Child/51-55. Lives in United States/Louisiana/New Orleans/The Westbank, speaks English. Spends 20% of daytime online. Uses a Faster (1M+) connection.  I play hard, love fiercely & unconditionally. I'm steadfastly loyal, even when others are not./Recovering addict since 09/90.
This is my blogchalk:
United States, Louisiana, New Orleans, The Westbank, English, Friday's Child, 51-55, I play hard, love fiercely & unconditionally. I'm steadfastly loyal, even when others are not., Recovering addict in NA since 09/90. Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis 12/04

Blogging Without Obligation

Friday's Child


As in ... "You SO own me!"

Sinja OWNED!
Co owned by Deirdre

Warning! Mood swings!

"I have seen the sea when it is stormy and wild; when it is quiet and serene; when it is dark and moody. And in all its moods I see myself." --Martin Buxbaum

yucky. -- Otto's Mood Faces
Feeling emotional.

Day of the Week Poem

What child are you? Click to calculate your day of birth
We lost it all to
Hurricane Katrina

I'm a Katrina Survivor!

1 Dead in Attic by Chris Rose = To experience the aftermath of Katrina, this is the book to read
1 Dead in Attic
Chris Rose

Washing Away - New Orleans hurricane vulnerabilities
2002 acclaimed series
on New Orleans'
hurricane vulnerabilities

Rebuild New Orleans!

This is our love, Louisiana

Katrina Information Network
Katrina 2 Years Later - CNN Report

Hurricanes I've Survived

Matter of Grey Matter

September 11, 2001 --
Through blurred double vision, I watched in horror as the Twin Towers in NYC crumbled to the ground. I feared I was going blind and prayed, "Please don't let these horrifying images be the last I see."

An MRI revealed a brain lesion pressing against my optic nerve. Several years of invasive tests and terrifying uncertainty followed. Finally, in December of 2004 I received my diagnosis ...

Multiple Sclerosis

"What is MS?" Video

I began daily injections of Copaxone in June of 2005.  Although I seem to have permanent symptoms from my last exacerbation, my last MRI revealed no new lesions and no new scarring.

I recently discovered that the best prep for injection is a warm compress before and after. I no longer get unsightly bruises or huge knots and there's less pain.

National MS Society

Mission: end the
devastating effects of MS

Join the Movement *video*

My Champions are:
CandyPen and
Glenda, my sweet
I'm honored & humbled

Band Against MS

Multiple Sclerosis and
the Aspartame Hoax


resigned 4/16/08

Ear Candy

Music hath charms
to soothe a savage beast,
To soften rocks,
or bend a knotted oak.
-- William Congreve --

.:: 60s and 70s music ::.

Listen: Windows Media Player
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Listen:  Pop-Up Flash Player

or my playlist @
Project Playlist

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.:: Diablo Tristram Village ::.
Matt Uelmen

Get Music Tracks
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Little known tidbit about Friday: I paid $600 for my very first computer in 1996. It was built to spec for one reason ... so I could play Diablo. I became addicted to the music of Tristram Village. To me, it's musical valium.

I am loved!


A thoughtful token
that changes often
from my sweet friend,
Candy @ Daily Thoughts

previous tokens

From precious Smallstar ...

Smallstar's Happy Heart - click to see full image

From my dollface, Melly Girl
pretty sparkly from Melly Girl

And I love!

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Gratis Graphics

If you requested a graphic and it's not here then it's probably here.

Deirdre <3 Sinja

If time and health allow, I'm willing to make custom group hugs. Request on taggie. Specify colors & names. Group hug without names is fine ... whatever. Two to four huggers.

Hugs by Gratis Graphics
Recent Mouse Doodles


coming soon -- my newphew, Gavin!

Compassion in action

[x] Don't almost give. GIVE!

For my mother, my sister, Meecie & May
[x] American Diabetes Association

For my daddy
[x] American Liver Foundation

For Frank, Meecie & Me
[x] Nat'l Institute of Mental Health

For my sister and me
Sometimes losing
is really winning!

My Presurgical Weight: 225 lbs
Total Weight Loss: 128 lbs
Current Weight: 108-112 lbs
[x]American Obesity Association

For Cassie, her mother, her stepfather, her father and my jackass brother
My clean date: Sept 1990
[x] Narcotics Anonymous

For James:
[x] Autism Speaks


Gifts, believe me, captivate both men and Gods, Jupiter himself was won over and appeased by gifts. -Ovid-

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[ captivation ]

[x] She Inspires Us
[x] Friday's Child
[x] Mistress Anne
[x] The Wild At Heart
[x] Tempus Fugit
[x] HOUSE rules
[x] The truth is out there
[x] JANE
[x] Moonlight

[ titillation ]

Hoops & Yoyo
Hoops & Yoyo

[x] cute but psycho
[x] Neurotically Yours

[ music ]

[x] Make Love, Not War

[ drool ]

[x] Sugary Cuteness

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.:: Thursday, July 09, 2009 ::.


Yes, I am out. 

Out of patience. 

Out of the condo. 

Out of the relationship. 

Out of my mind scared. 

Spaced out & out of it. 

Out of tears.

My therapist says I'm courageous and that since I'm so resilient, I'll bounce back sooner than I think.  I'm glad that's what her crystal ball tells her because my crystal ball is muddy and murky.

I'm having conflicting feelings.  Relief and yet regret.  Peace and yet deep-seated discontent.  I thought I would feel joyful  and hopeful but .... no.  He says, "This isn't over.  This is just a separation.  I'm going to be the man you need me to be and then you can come home."  I told him he had to become the man he wanted and needed to be with or without me.  His response was something like, "I want to be the man you need me to be." 

I wanted to tell him I was tired of promises.  I wanted to tell him that actions speak louder than words -- at which point I realized I should take my own advice.  Actions do speak louder than words so by my actions, I said goodbye.  While he was across the river "tending to business", I moved the last of my things out.  I didn't cry or even take one last lingering look.  I locked the door and left.

I did do some stupid things before I left.  No, I didn't write my name on the bottom of all his dishes or write a note in Magic Marker on the mirror or tuck little notes away in every cupboard or plant pictures of me under his pillow, in his sock drawer, etc.  What I did do was I stocked the freezer with prepared meals, changed the bed, did the laundry, hung a new shower curtain in the bathroom I left empty and I set the DVR to record his favorite shows.  A caretaker to the very end.  It's what I do best, I guess.  Now it's my turn to take care of me.

Several things weren't done -- those hurdles I spoke of post before last.  The utilities were never transferred into his name because although we've been together for nearly twelve years and he's been an authorized user on all my accounts, they required a deposit from him on every utility.  To make a long story short, I left them in my name, told him he would have to give me the money at the beginning of next month and have them transferred.  He has one more month reprieve.  If he doesn't come through, then I'll have the services turned off.  "Some people" have passed judgment on me for being such a sucker but I'm following my higher sense of right.

I'm emotional and surprised by things I'm feeling ... the grieving process begins.  Several people have abandoned me because I'm so vulnerable and broken.  Honestly, I'm too hurt by what I've just done to be hurt by the abandonment.  One day I'll be a worthy friend again ... said the Little Red Hen.

My eternal gratitude to those who have and are still supporting and encouraging me.  Y'all have cared for me, nurtured me, showered me with love and because of y'all, I will blossom.

I've been waiting so long.
To be where I'm going,
In the sunshine of your love.

Zoning out to ...
By Eric Clapton

And in the end, the love you take
is equal to the love you make
Chronicled :: 5:37 pm :: Friday's Child
(6) Petals Plucked  

.:: Wednesday, July 08, 2009 ::.

I'm out ...

Exhausted.  More tomorrow.

And in the end, the love you take
is equal to the love you make
Chronicled :: 8:25 pm :: Friday's Child
(3) Petals Plucked  

.:: Tuesday, July 07, 2009 ::.

The best laid plans of mice and men

The best-laid schemes o' mice an 'men
Gang aft agley,
An'lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

It's just not going as planned or hoped for.  Why the insurmountable hurdles?  Why?

And in the end, the love you take
is equal to the love you make
Chronicled :: 5:41 pm :: Friday's Child
(3) Petals Plucked  

.:: Wednesday, July 01, 2009 ::.

One step forward ...

It's hard to respond to y'all who have encouraged, supported and comforted me when I've no good news to offer.  Sometimes though any news is good news and I've some news that indicates a little step  forward. 

I have a place to go.  It's not far enough away and not the most ideal situation but it's a place to be where I'll be safe.  He had agreed to me staying until I could "get my act together" to have all my things moved to California -- maybe two weeks.  He promised I would be safe.  Another promise down the drain since he made the promise in the morning and that same evening came home very drunk  He wasn't abusive but neither was he kind. 

Without telling him anything at all, I made a few calls and finally worked out a plan with my best friend.  I went to therapy yesterday morning and told my  therapist what was going on.  Instead of encouraging me to "save the twelve year relationship" as she had done before, she spoke the words I'd been longing to hear anyone say, "You've made your feelings known and did so in a loving, caring way.  It's evident he's not interested in making an effort.  It's time to get out and you can do so knowing you've done all you can do."  Why I should need "permission" from my therapist is beyond me, but it helped.

After therapy I went to storage and loaded up all my suitcases and more empty boxes.  When he saw the suitcases he seemed a little taken aback.  I didn't say anything but since then I've been telling him things we need to do regarding certain items and a few bills he'll need to take over that we hadn't mentioned before.

Today he's across the river again and SAYS he'll be back early but I don't have much faith in anything he says any more.  I've decided that if he's not home at a reasonable time I'll not spend the night here.  If he's home at a reasonable time and drunk, I'll not spend the night here.  Then everything will kick into high gear and I'll be out in the shortest time possible.

I know the grieving period will come but at this moment I feel I have only one purpose ... to keep myself safe.

Thank y'all so much for continuing to check on me.    Your caring, concern, thoughts, prayers, kindness -- ALL appreciated so very much.  It's amazing to me to feel so pitiful and yet y'all haven't turned away from me during this painful time.  True, some have given up on me because my life has been "too negative" but I can't worry about them.  I look forward to being around a lot more after I'm out of here and then I can shower the love on y'all as I once did.  Hopefully the pain of a failed twelve year relationship won't consume me for too long.  Just trying to be realistic ... I know that no matter how right this decision is, the pain will come ... but I also know I'll be OK.

And in the end, the love you take
is equal to the love you make
Chronicled :: 12:07 pm :: Friday's Child
(7) Petals Plucked  

.:: Monday, June 29, 2009 ::.

Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde

I re-read the my last post and realized ... I don't know this man I've lived with for nearly twelve years.  However there are several things I do know that make me wonder what sort of madness is going on in this man's mind when he's drunk.

First, I believe he believes I think I'm better than he is somehow because I used to have money, I've traveled and I've experienced much more of the world than he has.  I don't think that at all.  In fact, I think much less of myself because of how I threw that all away with drugs and alcohol.  Since he's doing exactly the same thing, he certainly wouldn't see my actions that way.

The other night he saw me eating my salad with my fingers -- I was just picking at it really.  When I saw him looking at me I said, "I know, this would embarrass you which is why I don't do it while we're out."  Well, we rarely go out together -- I can't remember the last time we went visiting or out to eat or to a movie.  So when he's drunk he repeats this trivial incident with, "You're a total embarrassment!  I don't care if you did see someone in Europe eating their salad with their fingers; here in The States civilized people eat salad with a fork."  I don't respond to him but I'm thinking in my head, "Where is that coming from?"  a) I've never been to Europe  b) I've never eaten my salad with my fingers in public  c) civilized people?  Do civilized people get drunk and come home acting like a mad man?

Second ... all that bravado about being in jail before and "it ain't nuthin'.  He was arrested ONCE for DUI.  Slept it off in the drunk tank, went to court for it and had to pay a fine and perform so many hours of community service -- picking up trash in front of the courthouse.  That was years before I met him so in the past eleven years he hasn't been in jail.

In the mind of this drunk man, reality becomes wildly distorted and I get punished for things I never did or said.  When he's sober, he's remorseful and sweet and says things like, 'I would NEVER hit you!"  Yeah, OK.

More bad news this morning ... once again the place where I was going to stay until I could fly to California has been removed from the equation.  If only I could stay with family it would make my life so much easier but ... no such luck.  I actually don't even want to bring my grief into anyone's home while I'm transitioning.  Many people feel the same way I do ... i did this myself.  I chose to stay.  Well, now I'm choosing to leave.  Maybe it's just as well I can't ask anyonoe to help me because i don't want to feel ingratiated.

How many women have been trapped in a relationship because they had nowhere to go?  I'm going to do this somehow.  I won't be defeated ... not after everything else I've been through.  I've been through far too much to give up now.

And in the end, the love you take
is equal to the love you make
Chronicled :: 2:17 pm :: Friday's Child
(4) Petals Plucked  

.:: Saturday, June 27, 2009 ::.

There isn't enough compassion in the world ...

He was yelling at me, standing so close to me I could feel the warmth of his breath and spittle on my cheek.  "I'll cave your face in." he screamed.  I calmly and pointedly said, "Back off of me."  He came even closer and spat at me, "Go ahead, bitch, jump off!"  I didn't move and wondered what the hell 'jump off" meant.  I was thinking how ghetto, gangsta and guttural he gets when he's drunk.  I didn't respond but didn't move or break eye contact either.  He kept screaming, "C'mon! Jump off, bitch!".  "Do you want to go to jail?"  I asked trying not to sound too condescending.  "I've been to jail before, bitch, it don't mean nuthin'."

I was surprised that he finally backed off and simply went to bed.  I wasn't scared ... at least not once I heard him snoring.  I made up my bed on the sofa but couldn't sleep.  All I could think of was how stupid I am. Weeks ago I was walking out the damned door and I let him talk me into staying.  I didn't want to leave him financially unable to pay all the utilities.  He told me he was going to get it together.  I'm guessing he was hoping that he could talk me into staying permanently.  It wasn't going to happen but I think he thought he could make it all up to me.  I think alcoholics have a special talent for deluding themselves.

Well, the end of the month is nearly here and I'm ready to move on now, whether he's financially able to support himself or not.  There's not enough compassion, caring or love in the world that could make me stay now.  The bulk of my belongings are in storage.  He never did follow through with transferring all the utilities into his name so I'm going to force the issue to get the rest of that done.  He also told me last night that he wasn't going to pay me the money he borrowed from me because I received the benefit from it as well.  Then he said that it would be worth the $400 to get rid of me.  He paid me $200 and still owes me $600.  I'm probably gonig to have to take the loss and consider that it will be well worth the $600 loss to be free of this insanity.

Maybe this all had to happen.  I had to get good and fed up so I wouldn't feel bad about leaving him or worry about what's going to happen to him because as of this moment I'm not worried about what's going to happen him.  I just want a new start.

And in the end, the love you take
is equal to the love you make
Chronicled :: 7:45 pm :: Friday's Child
(5) Petals Plucked  

.:: Wednesday, June 24, 2009 ::.

A day of loss ...
Six year old loss ...

Six years ago today, we lost Mama.  Six years later it still hurts.

Recent loss -- an open letter to a loved one ...

I know you don't agree with everything I say or believe in.  I know that sometimes you're so passionate about what you believe that you stop listening to me or you don't hear what I'm saying, only what you think I'm saying.  You may be angry with me ... honestly, I don't know what you're feeling or going through.  I don't know because you don't tell me.  Maybe it's not your intent, but it feels like you're withdrawing your love from me.  I try not to believe that but it's difficult when you leave me twisting in the wind with my own thoughts which at times are not my friend.  The day that our disagreement took place should have been a happier day.  Our conversation ended badly.  Since then, not a word.  If you're intent is to hurt me ... if you intent is to punish me ... you've succeeded.  If that isn't your intent, then what is?  How can I possibly know if you don't tell me?

And in the end, the love you take
is equal to the love you make
Chronicled :: 2:57 pm :: Friday's Child
(4) Petals Plucked  

.:: Friday, June 19, 2009 ::.

Honoring my mother on my birthday ...

Today is my sixth birthday without my mother.  When my mother was living I would send her flowers.  It was more than my birthday ... it was my mother's birthing day.  My mother suffered unimaginable physical and emotional pain in order to carry me, bear me and raise me.  She didn't have to have me -- but she did.  She didn't have to keep me -- but she did.  I've always felt it was important to honor her ... I still do.  So, once again, I am going to pay homage to my mother.

Mama was a storyteller.  She told plenty of stories about my childhood.  Some of them were down right embarrassing.  There was one story that I never tired of hearing ... that's the story of my birth.

What follows is the story that my mother told me every year on my birthday, for fifty years, until her passing.


She was still young but somehow she felt very old and tired.  She was only 32 but here she was abandoned by her husband with four small children - one born only hours ago.  She was alone in the hospital room.  The door to her room was closed and it made her feel more alone than ever.  It seemed to her that considering the circumstances there really wasn't much to look forward to on the other side of that door.  How was she going to make it alone with four babies?

She noticed that the window on the opposite side of the room was open.  A gentle breeze playfully blew the pale yellow curtains around.  All of a sudden she wanted to feel the breeze on her face.  She felt as if she needed it.  Maybe a breath of fresh air would give her a fresh outlook.  Maybe the feel of the cool air on her skin would bring her out of this dark fog she was in.

She sat up on the side of the bed.  Every inch of her body ached even though labor was short and delivery incredibly fast.  As she was coming up in the elevator to the maternity ward she just knew that the baby was going to drop out on the elevator floor.  She kept lamenting, "It's coming, the baby is coming!"  The elevator operator, just a young woman herself kept yelling back, "Hold it, hold it!"  She had always had a sense of humor and it came out even in times of distress.  She turned to the elevator operator, grabbed her by the lapel of her uniform and screamed in her face, "You hold it, I've been holding it for nine months!"  By the time they reached the maternity ward the elevator operator looked worse for the ride than the laboring mother did.

When the doors opened her sister helped her out of the elevator and started yelling, "We need help, the baby is coming NOW!!!!"  From out of nowhere came a nurse with a gurney followed by a herd of nurses and a doctor.  They put her on the gurney and rolled through the double doors of the delivery room.  Her sister told her that there had been a man just outside the delivery room smoking a cigarette and that the delivery was so quick that when the nurse came out to announce the arrival of the baby, he was smoking the same cigarette.  She wasn't sure if her sister was exaggerating but it had been the quickest and easiest delivery of all of the four.

She slipped off the bed but held on to steady herself.  Still holding on to the bed she stepped closer to the window.  All of a sudden she was even more tired than before.  She knew she didn't have the strength to get back in bed and wasn't sure she could make it to the chair by the window - she was too weak to even call out for help.

"Damn him!" she thought, "He should be here.  Why, why, why ..." she began to sob.  She didn't know why she was alone, why no one else was there - she didn't even know what day or time it was although there was daylight streaming through the window.  The window ....  she wanted so badly to make it to the window -- the breeze, the sunshine ... yes, they would rejuvenate her, elevate her mood and outlook.

With every step she took it became a little easier but still painful.  Finally she made it to the window.  With the last ounce of energy and strength she had left she opened the window wider.  The breeze rushed in and startled her.  She lifted her face letting the sun and the breeze play on her tear stained face.  Closing her eyes she breathed in the fresh air slowly as if it would somehow soothe her shattered heart - but it didn't.  The sadness was covering her and it was heavy ... so heavy.

She opened her eyes and began to contemplate if she should just sit in the chair or try to get back to the bed.  All she wanted to do was lay back down and sleep.  She thought to herself, "No wonder he left me - I can't even manage what I'm going to do in just a few minutes let alone manage a house, marriage and a family."  She was being hard on herself as she always was.  She was always striving to better herself but it was never enough for him.

He was a musician.  He was good at what he did.  He was olive complected, had smokey dark eyes and a smile that mesmerized plenty of women.  Yes, "the women" ... all his women.  She couldn't compete with those backstage hussies is what she thought but she wasn't aware of her own beauty -- he had broken her spirit, reigned in her confidence.  She could only imagine what her mother was going to say now, after she had warned her not to marry him.  But they had been high school sweethearts.  She had loved him all her life.  He had loved her like crazy once.  The tears sprang from her eyes of their own volition.

As she stood there hanging on to the window sill she looked down through her tears.  What floor was she on, she wondered?  The second floor?  The third floor?  Would a jump from the third or second floor kill her?  At that moment that thought took over and pushed everything else out of her head.  Yes, jump.  Jumping would put an end to all the pain and the humiliation.  Yes, jump.  She considered that perhaps a jump from this height wouldn't kill her - perhaps she should wait until she could make it to the roof - surely a jump from the hospital roof would end it.  But if she waited someone might guess and stop her somehow.  She thinks that if she leans out the window and falls head first it will break her neck or the head injury alone would kill her.  But what if she didn't fall head first?  What if she fell legs first and only broke her legs?  Then someone would have to take care of her and she'd be a burden.  No.  She knew burden - she didn't want to be a burden.  "Quit thinking about it, " she tells herself, "just do it, just jump."  She closes her eyes and began to lean out the window ...

The door to the room swings open causing a blast of air to blow through the window.  It startles her and she instinctively turned around.  The nurse in the crisp white uniform hurried over to her.  "Hope, what are you doing out of bed?  You should be resting!  Let's get you back in bed."  She's too weak to resist.  As the nurse helps her back to bed she begins to cry.  The nurse doesn't know she's crying because she missed her chance -- just like she messed up her marriage she messed up her only way out.  After tucking her in bed the nurse shivered.  "It's cold in here, dear.  Are you trying to catch you death?"  She half laughed through her tears and thought, "Umm hmmm, that's it, catch my death -- if only."  As the nurse closed the window the young woman continued to weep.

The door swung open again and brought with it a nurse carrying a bundle.  She handed the bundle to the first nurse and quietly exited the room.  "I have someone here who wants to see you."  the nurse says in a sing song voice.  "No" she said, "Not now, no."  "Oh c'mon" says the nurse, "how can you say no to this?  Everyone is saying she's the prettiest baby in the nursery."  The nurse placed the bundle on the womans chest and pulled back the blanket.

She looked down into her child's face ... a beautiful face.  Her complexion was olive, like her father's.  She had black tufts of hair, her eyes were wide and round and her nose was tiny and pointed up just a bit like an old shoe.  She felt something familiar - a little tug at her heart.  The child looked up at her and even though babies can't see very far when they're first born she felt as if this child was staring straight into her soul.  Yes, she was beautiful.  She folded back the blanket and counted ten fingers and ten toes.  The baby began to cry.  "It's a little chilly in here.  She may be cold."  The nurse said.  The young mother wrapped the blanket around the baby, brought the child up to her shoulder and began to pat the baby gently on her bottom.

The child quieted down.  The mother cradled the baby in her arms again so she could see her baby's face.  She wiped the tears from the baby's eyes and began to coo, "Yes, my darling.  Yes my baby girl.  Don't worry, Mommy isn't going anywhere.  Mommy won't leave you.  Don't worry, precious girl.  Mommy's here.  Mommy's here."  As she cooed to her child she knew that she could never ever leave this precious baby or any of her other three babies.  They needed her and she was going to find a way to take care of them.  She would show everyone - she was going to make it.  She was going to take care of her babies.  As she continued to coo the baby's eyes began to close.  The nurse tip-toed over and indicated that she would take her.  The young mother shook her head indicating she would like to hold her for a bit longer.

Another nurse entered the room. The nurse at the bedside put her fingers to her lips to stop the entering nurse and walked quietly to the door.  Both the nurses stood there for a second watching mother and child ... a touching sight.

As the nurses left the room and quietly closed the door behind them they hear the mother continue to coo, "Mommy's here.  Mommy's here."
Years later when the baby was able to understand, her mother told her about that day ... and how on that day she saved her mother's life.

That's how it happened June 20th, 1953 - the day after I was born.  As I sit here and remember my mother I can almost feel her arms around me and hear her whisper in my ear as she did that day and all her life, "Mommy's here.  Mommy's here" and I know that she is.


I not only post this story every year but I read it as well, along with the rest of y'all.  It's important and reminds me that I am my mother's child ... therefore, even though she's no longer here with us, I'll never lose her ... Hope will live in my heart forever.

I know my mother is always with me ... but GOD! how I miss her!  I miss her so very much.  

Happy Birthing Day, Mama.  We struggled, you and I, but in the end all that mattered was the love.  Thank you for all you gave to me and continue to give me every single day.  I love you, Mama.

And in the end, the love you take
is equal to the love you make
Chronicled :: 12:34 am :: Friday's Child
(5) Petals Plucked  

.:: Tuesday, May 26, 2009 ::.

Ain't love grand?

I am in love
... deeply in love.  He's changed my entire world and though I can't be with him now I know that one day soon I'll hold him in my arms, stare into his eyes and sigh.  Every nuance of his beautiful face -- the brightness of his eyes, the color in his cheeks, the up-turned corners of his mouth -- will make my heart spill over with love.  I waited for him forever, it seems.  Now that he's here I look forward to spending the rest of my life showing him how very much he's loved by me and will always, always, always, have a home in my heart and my arms. 

Who is this incredible person?  Feast your eyes on the one who has stolen my heart.

And in the end, the love you take
is equal to the love you make
Chronicled :: 4:25 pm :: Friday's Child
(8) Petals Plucked  

.:: Tuesday, May 26, 2009 ::.

Another time, another place ... [edited]

My life has been so bizarre and amazing.  Between the periods of full blown addiction and all that that implies, there were some pretty "normal", fun, innocent periods of my life.  I found a picture while I was moving all my belongings from one storage place to another and back again.  It was taken in Big Bear, California.  I was in my early twenties.  By that time I had already been a heroin addict, lived on the streets, had sold myself for a fix, cleaned up, got married, filed for divorce six months later, got a decent job and started dating a normal kinda guy. 

My first date with Michael was camping in the desert.  I had never been camping before and I promise you I had never, ever squatted over a hole in darkness of the desert in the chilly night air.  It wasn't what I was used to but I loved the fact that I didn't have to be anyone but who I was and he liked me just like that.

Later on in our relationship Michael took me with him on a fishing trip with friends.  I didn't get to fish that trip -- didn't know how but I fell in love nonetheless.  Several weeks later he took me back to Big Bear, just the two of us, where I caught my first rainbow trout.  I was a happy girl -- the picture proves it.

Friday's Child - NatureGirl
click to enlarge

**I played around with the picture a bit because it was really faded - using a grahics FX program made some of the lines stand out better.

My relationship with Michael didn't last but a year or so but it was a wonderful time ... one of the few times in my life when I felt "normal" - when smiles and laughter were genuine, when no one looked down their nose at me, when I didn't have to be all glammed up when I was with a man.  It was a simpler more innocent time for me even though I had experienced so much before that time.  I had no idea I was going to go back to that life again and again and again.

If I only cared ONLY about myself, I'd be back in California by now.  I long for a simpler life and I miss so very much Monterey / Carmel / Big Sur, the Kern River, Big Bear Lake and fishing.  I often wonder if I'll ever find a way to put myself first without feeling completely cruel and selfish.  In the meantime, memories like this help and I do have some lovely, lovely memories.

EDIT ---> OMG!  Someone just pointed out to me that I still wear big belts and SHORT shorts.  ROFLMAO  It's over thirty years later!  Am I behind the times or did big belts and short shorts come back?  It's not all bad though ... I'm still the same size ... but is CERTAINLY doesn't look like that!  LOL  I can't quit laughing at myself!

And in the end, the love you take
is equal to the love you make
Chronicled :: 12:14 pm :: Friday's Child
(4) Petals Plucked  

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