If I am in my car, and the windows are up - HELL, even if they are down.. you can’t see me.  My windows have a little bit of tint, but that’s not the point; when I am in my car/truck… I am myself.

I sing… not just a little “la la” either.. I fucking wail, and dance too… and nobody sees me…. I’m invisible.

I am guilty of picking my nose…  who’s going to see that… I’m invisible.

I make faces, apply makeup.. I am even guilty of plucking my eyebrows - if parked of course… who’s going to know… well besides you… I’m invisible.

It’s funny the weird things we do in our cars, and we assume no one can see us… I mean I can drive down the road with a soda in hand… stuffin’ a burrito in my face, dripping shit all over my pants, and I could CARE LESS if anyone sees me. 

Call me disgusting if you will, but you know as well as I… you think you’re invisible too.

You do… don’t you?

~2

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There was a time when this girl wore the lipstick.  She cared not what other’s thought and wore it bright and loud… even if it was totally out of context, she wore it proud

Lipstick is a funny thing… although brilliant and alluring, you lose it throughout the day.   A sip or a kiss… it always seems to wash away

As time goes by it loses its luster… and eventually the lipstick wears the girl.  She feels obligated to reapply… muted in tone and in conservative supply

Worn as a mask to hide insecurities… the lipstick wears the girl.  All that’s left are the blissful memories in her head… dancing wildly in solid shades of red.

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I think I originally posted this on The Blue Doodle… not sure if I posted it here or not… so I am going to give it a go

The Beauty of Age

I remember being a child and wishing for nothing more than to be grown up.  I am sure we all did this when we were younger, and now wish we could take it back.  Maybe spend a little more time being a kid.

I wanted to drive so badly.  I remember just aching at fourteen to get behind the wheel of a car.  If I was lucky, on the trip back from Grandmother’s house, my mom would let me drive some… what a feeling.  Driving 25 mph on a 55 mph highway… trying my damnedest to keep from swerving all over the place; that woman had nerves of steel. 

My son talks about driving now, he’s eight.  Like that is EVER going to happen.  I am never letting that kid have the wheel of my car, and just sit in the passenger seat and watch.  That is crazy…

!  He wants to grow up and drive.  He’s even talking about getting married.  He’s EIGHT!!!  What are they teaching these kids in school? He’s a super smart kid, but we have the same dumb conversations I had with my mother…”Why can’t I just be grown up now?”

“Gabe, it’s not that great being a grown up,” I have to say.

“You get to drive and stay up late… you even get to eat ice cream for breakfast.”  He is upset with me because I do occasionally eat ice cream for breakfast.  That is one of the many perks of this grown up bit that I am happy to say I actually dig.

“Well, it’s not all that great.  Besides you spend your whole life wishing for more.  I wished I was sixteen too, so I could drive.  Then I wished I was eighteen so I could smoke…”

“But you don’t smoke…” he interrupts.

“I know I don’t smoke… but I could if I wanted to, and that is the beauty of it.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“Well you are eight, y’know? After eighteen you have twenty-one. Oh man twenty-one… good times.  You can drink..”

“I can drink…” he says.

“No… alcohol,” he is looking at me very puzzled, “Like beer…”

“That’s a drug!  Why would you want to drink that?”

“Man… I don’t know why you would want to; you just do.  ANYway, at twenty-five your insurance drops, and I think you can rent a car.”

“Insurance?  What is that?” I really didn’t think I was going to have to go into premiums and plan choices with my son, but you’d be amazed at the questions he asks, and if I can’t answer them… I fake it.  Surely he will forget before he hits therapy in a few years, right? Skip ahead several minutes later, “Well…”

“After that it’s pretty much down hill… I think maybe all you have to look forward to after that is AARP.”

“What’s that?” again with the questions. Damn it, kid… can you give me a moment of peace so I can think clearly for a moment?  Can you stop talking long enough for me to remember why I wanted kids in the first place? Yeah I can’t wait till you’re grown up too… so you will know everything; or at least THINK you do.

“Well,” I look into his eyes and see that unconditional love he has for me.  I see the spark… curiosity that makes up his brilliant mind.  For a moment I grasp a hold of that childhood that quickly raced past me, and I remember exactly how he feels… that ache to be like my parents, because they were my world; I am his world.  I smile and feel the spirit of my youth dancing in my head… answering the best I can, “you get free coffee at the gas station when you fill up…”

“But you don’t drink coffee,” he interrupts.

“I know I don’t drink coffee… but I could if I wanted to.”

~2

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 *** This post was from the draw: Motionless***

I lay there… motionless… pretending not to see… trying not to breathe

Glassy eyed you write your confessions on the cold tile… you fingerprints everywhere.

That’s my blood…. That’s my mangled body laying there naked… clammy,

Getting colder by the second.

Crazy you run about… talking nonsense in a foreign tongue… babbling… babbling… will you shut up already.

That’s my blood… that’s my mangled body laying there naked… bruised,

Getting colder by the second.

Oh God now what?  What are you looking for in that cabinet?  I don’t think so… that’s my razor… don’t you dare…

Crap.

I lay there… motionless… pretending not to see… trying not to breath

AND

there you are trying to steal my glory…. Flopping about on the tile beside me… spurting your life into the air and across my face.

~2

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***Just my thoughts… and I am sure you will agree or disagree… that’s fine.  I am not here to argue – just stating an opinion.  It is fine to agree to disagree.***

Friday night I watched a movie I should have seen years ago, thanks to Netflix, I have been trying to catch up.  I am not sure why it has taken me so long to watch this movie… I have a burning love for Edward Norton, but I believe the skin head and swastika probably turned me off.  Hate is probably on the top of my list of things “not” to buy into, and this movie just screamed it… or so I thought…

I won’t lie, watching American History X, my stomach turned.  This is an excellent movie, not because I have the same beliefs in racism and hate, but it shows how much we are a product of our environment.  How vulnerable we are in our teen years, and how easily we are molded. It’s not all about racism, either.  This movie also touches on immigration and affirmative action.  The characters are extremely intelligent and argue their beliefs quite convincingly.

This movie also shows how hate is passed down - learned, from father to son, from older brother to younger.  Edward Norton’s character is a role model for his younger brother, played by Ed Furlong, who is sure to follow in his brother’s footsteps. Although the father is not as extreme, racism is racism.  Hate is all lumped into one broad word, and whether you like it or not, a little or a lot, it’s still hate. 

There is one thing that burns in my mind from this movie; the quote: “Has anything you’ve done made YOUR life better?”

Think about it.

Why do we spend so much time thinking about the past?  Why does it matter what happened to your or my people 100s of years ago?  Why can’t we just live now?  Let’s stop focusing on what happened, and start redirecting our attention to what’s happening — Work together to take care of other issues that really need our attention.  Redirect that hate into something productive… to make our “Now” better… for us and our families for years to come.

Another issue that comes to mind, that screams hate, and most of you are guilty of thinking it - immigration.  Every night on the news they talk about it here in Arizona.  Every day I hear people complaining about immigrants coming thru our borders… I know at one time… your families were immigrants too.  They may have not spoken the native language, but thy came here to try to better their family… they came here so YOU would have opportunities that they didn’t have.  I understand that you’re tired of people coming over illegally, that this somehow affects your opportunities.  Well get motivated, educate yourself, take advantage of the opportunities that are given you, and quit complaining about what this or that person has.  What good is it if you sit there complaining about something being taken away from you… if you actually had no interest in attaining it to begin with…  to complain for the sake of complaining.

I can’t solve the world problems… I can’t make you change your mind if you are dead set of hating someone or something.  But until you have been in that situation yourself… until you know the circumstances involved… until it’s you that is on the table being prosecuted for trying to better your family - you will never understand.

Let me suggest to you Double Es…  Education and Empathy.  You may be intelligent, and you may think you know everything there is to know about a subject such as immigration, but do you know the individuals involved?  Do you know why they risked everything to come here?  Do you know their family members… their moms, dads, children?  Do you know the circumstances surrounding the risks?  Empathy is basically placing yourself in the shoes of the other person and trying to understand what it is like to be that person… how it would feel if that was my family.  What would I be willing to do for my family?

OH

movie.

Back to movies… there is another excellent movie out there with such subtleties you might not even realize it’s about hate… Pleasantville.  I adore this movie - it is so full of symbolism it gives me goose bumps. I know it sounds ridiculous - a movie where the characters get sucked into an old black and white TV show, but this movie is incredible.  The characters go through so many changes, which most of the town fear, and they get color… which leads to segregation.  The experience things they have never felt before… they learn things they are surprised even existed, and they love.  Being prosecuted by the townspeople for being different… sound familiar?  All but the two main characters, started out in black and white but most eventually evolve into color.

Pleasantville shows that we are all human and we all experience things on different levels… we have emotions and are capable of love as well as hate, but it’s up to the individual as to how he or she interprets them.

Bottom line is that we should try to forget the things done to us in the past that make us hold a grudge against a person or a whole race of people.  More than likely these original people involved aren’t even in the picture anymore… why should we carry a burden that isn’t ours?  Why can’t we start fresh today and work together towards a common goal… even if that goal is just to make our lives better for years to come… to live free of hate and focus on our own families instead of bitching about everyone else.

Just my thoughts… and I am sure you will agree or disagree… that’s fine.  I am not here to argue – just stating an opinion.  It is fine to agree to disagree.

~2

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Isn’t it strange how a community of people can somehow become the stereotype for a whole state of people… 

When I lived in Oklahoma, I totally hated watching the news.  They always picked the worst case to interview… it was always the toothless hillbilly who made no sense what so ever.. trying to explain that his house, which was of course a trailer protected by a layer of tires strategically placed on the roof… just blew away, and it was “like nuttin’ I’d never seen b’fore!”

I just rolled my eyes and shook my head

Now in Arizona, a whole new breed of people are causing me a bit of mental anguish.  I hate to even mention it, but something is just wrong here.  I am not a person to make fun of anyone with a disability, but if I have to question that there is even a disability to begin with… stupid people are fair game.

First… I live on the 3rd floor in an apartment complex.  Across the hall of the THIRD floor is an older couple… ahem the THIRD floor.  Our apartment doors face the courtyard, for us to go to the lot… we must first exit out of our apartment doors… walk down a somewhat long cooridor and then decend down the stairs to go happily on her little motorcade way.  My neighbor, who lives across the way, that walks down the same flight of stairs I do, has a handicap parking place reserved for him. 

I understand that if he has a disability… I have no problem with him having a reserved spot… and actually I park out front, so I could care less that he has one altogether.  What bothers me is that he walks down the stairs to get to his car.  Why is he on the THIRD floor to begin with?  Why not the first level?

I shake my head at that

Here is where the community that defines the whole state come into play…

I picked my son up from school last Friday early, since they were having parent treacher conferences (my son is brilliant.. just saying) and decided to grab a bite to eat, since the baby and I hadn’t had lunch yet.  He decided we should go to Jack in the Box - since he had never been there.  While sitting there waiting for the baby to finish throwing her food in the floor, a Phoenix fave pulled into the lot - a fucking MONSTER truck.  I have yet to see what the deal with these are, but everyone has them here.  I noticed that they had pulled into a handicap spot, and I was starting to get pissed… I don’t care if someone jumps out and you are just standing there… that place is reserved for a reason.

So.. as we are walking past the truck I noticed the plate… and it was handicapped.  WHAT THE FUCK?!!  That thing required a ladder to get into.  I am not even going into how much I SHAKE MY HEAD AT THIS!!

What is wrong with Arizona?  I am always one of the first people to help a person in need… I would go out of my way to help someone with a disability, but this is ridiculous. 

What do you shake your head at?
~2

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Driving home today, I couldn’t help but think about all the things going on around me.  I have been a bit discouraged by the new job, and of course, sleep deprived, so while taking a moment to breathe I decided to take a break from the cd of choice at the present time…. King for a Day Fool for a Lifetime (Faith No More).. I slipped in something different… something I hadn’t listened to in ages, and I was pleasantly surprised on how much I had forgotten. 

okokok it was the Bloodhound Gang’s Hooray for Boobies… yeah yeah don’t give me shit - it cracks me up.

Have you ever been listening to something… of course loud… and noticed how it seems life outside the vehicle is somehow in tune with the music?  The shaking leaves on the passing palms, the bouncing vehicles… the peds crossing the street mouthing the words. Even each breath I took seemed to somehow fit, and that maybe I cracked some sort of secret code… there has been something going on all along behind the scenes, and I am just now beginning to understand it.

I drive on and there is a girl dressed like the statue of liberty, waving at me, smiling at me.  It’s a tax service.  Would someone standing on the side of the road waving at you really sway your decision on who you let process your taxes?  I have always wondered why do that… and how much does it pay, because on this same stretch of road, less than a mile long, I have seen the statue of liberty, a guy waving a flag, and a few others… and it’s a busy street.. they drive like 40 mph and I can’t see someone slamming on their breaks.. crap… I need to have THEM do my taxes… RIGHT NOW.  Just something I think about. I drive down the same street everyday to pick my daughter up from the sitter.

I pick up pretty girl, and drive back down the same road… palm reader…. 5 bucks.  I would so love to stop, but I know Brynn wouldn’t let me… so I drive on with music — giggling “they said vagina”… hehe

Stop at the light, and in front of me is a vehicle… I can’t remember what kind, but I remember the sticker and it totally brings a smile to my face:

I brake for saucy wenches!

Suddenly I am wishing I was a saucy wench… I am not 100% sure as to what that’s talking about, but it just rolls off the tongue.  Oh to be a saucy wench!

It’s amazing how many things stand out on this drive, and it makes me wonder what I am missing.  Am I suppose to be seeing something, but I keep overlooking it.  Like some sign from a higher power.   I am not religious by any means, but I like to think I do have a purpose here.  I so wish to know what it is.  Maybe I should get my palm read… maybe I should get my taxes done, or maybe I can get some lessons and become that saucy wench I so long to be.

~2

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**I think I wrote this for an older draw… stumbled upon it and felt like reposting it**

Make Believe

Everyday I imagine we are close even when I distance us
My head swims with uncertainty and I tend to push you away.
I listen to the silence and pretend to hear optimistic promises
but the darkness eats them up.

Everyday I lie to myself and pretend all is well in my world
That I am happy with the choices I have made.
I listen to my heart and try to quiet it’s pleas for more than this
but I am tired and dismiss it as nothing.

Everyday my dreams of greatness sink further away
Laziness becomes the path of least resistance.
I listen to my doubts and begin to think they are truths
and I am meant to accomplish nothing.

~2

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***This was posted for the draw: “Our lives are kept in Equipoise by opposite attractions and desires.” - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow “Haunted Houses” ***

I posted this a long time ago… but it immediately came to mind tonight when thinking about what to write for this draw… I apologize for reposting but I think it’s appropriate.

I want…

I want to be content… to not wish there was something more. 
I want to be able to look at my life with no regrets, and be perfectly happy with what I have. 
To not be angry that I am not where I want to be or question why I am with - who I am with. 
I don’t want to obsess about the things that I should have or shouldn’t have done.
I want to be handed this contentment on a  plate and not have to struggle to attain it… a beautifully wrapped gift in the palm of my hand.

I want not to be afraid to open it.

~2

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**OK, so this is a repost… I doubt anyone will remember it because it was WAAAAY back when… so read it and pretend it’s new.**

I remember 6th grade like it was yesterday.  Sitting in science class watching The Miracle of Life, a very UNSEXY rendition of baby making, thinking there is no way in HELL I am ever popping a kid out of THERE.  I am sure that was the whole point of making us watch the 2 1/2 hour flick… of course our parents had to sign a slip saying it was ok, and the girls watched it in one room and the boys in another.  ANYway, I held pretty tight to this no kid thing all through highschool. 

To understand more about making us watch this film, you need to understand a little more about the city in which I resided.  I think it was on the high side of the states numbers for teen pregnancy.  There were more than 10 girls in my graduating class (maybe almost 100) that had or were expecting kids.  One girl was on number three when we walked off the stage with diploma in hand… so the flick didn’t deter everyone, and it sure didn’t deter the rest of us from having sex.

I actually started thinking about it after graduation, but only after witnessing the birth of my best friends daughter… which she conveniently named after me… poor girl.  After that moment, I started to obsess.  I know.. that is so unlike me (bleah).  I was going to have a kid someday, not anytime in the near future.  I still didn’t have the other half of my baby’s gene pool decided at that time, so I wasn’t in a real rush or anything. There was a plan too.  I wanted to be married… maybe for a year then a kid.  Like my mom, I figured I turned out ok (who am I kidding), so why mess up a good thing.  I know better than anyone else, life doesn’t always go according to plan.

So, anyway, I meet this guy… a real weirdo, just the way I like ‘em. He’s 6′4″ 230 lb … long dark hair with the bluest eyes I have ever seen.  Never wore pants, always these weird homemade shorts with cartoon characters on them…. a rainbow of converse all-stars and doc martins…  Nose pierced - neck pierced… awesome drummer.  I was weird too, don’t get me wrong here.  I was not the normal, law-abiding citizen I am today.  OK, maybe I am not normal… but I am law-abiding.  Thus began the second longest relationship of my life… Let’s call this guy Ricardo, just for fun, and it sounds kind of foreign, exotic.

Ricardo didn’t want kids, and I told him that I wasn’t planning on pursuing a long drawn out relationship with someone who didn’t share the same goals in life…. so I don’t know why we stuck it out so long.  So to make a long weird story as short as I can … when we finally started talking about having kids, we were able to come up with a set of “ideas” (if you will) on how to raise our child.  I want to share these with you because I feel that they might be of use when or if you decide to have children of your own:

1.  We were not going to let our child’s feet ever touch the ground. He would be carried whenever possible, and led to believe that it would be unholy for his feet to touch anything other than the finest cloth or flower petals. 

2.  Ok this one is really bad.  We were going to tell him over and over that he was the new messiah and leader of all people.

3.  The child shall be homeschooled, because you don’t learn anything in public school other than how to have (really bad) sex and do drugs.

4.  He shall learn many foreign languages and be well cultured in the arts.

5.  We would try a new form of discipline. This is hard to explain, but it entails when he does something wrong to punish the parent.. ie “If you do that again.. I am going to beat your mother”.  Instilling a great amount of guilt for his actions.

I know there are more, but I really can’t remember, it’s been a long time.   I know you are all curious…. did they have a kid together? 

HA!  Wouldn’t you like to know!  I am not telling, SUKKA!  I’ll leave that to the imagination, or those who know the WHOLE story.

ANYway, use those child rearing ideas if you like… or feel free to add to or embellish if you will.  Let me know how your kids turn out… I am curious too.

~2

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