Saturday, March 28, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
5 albums that still burn with memories of a past love...
Hunky Dory - David Bowie
Rufus Wainwright - Rufus Wainwright
Vaya - At The Drive In
Sketches (For My Sweetheart The Drunk)- Jeff Buckley
Jagged Thoughts - American Steel
Rufus Wainwright - Rufus Wainwright
Vaya - At The Drive In
Sketches (For My Sweetheart The Drunk)- Jeff Buckley
Jagged Thoughts - American Steel
5 songs that will always remind me of effin epic road trips i was once on
Car
If I Ever Feel Better
198d
Lover's Spit
Cause = Time
If I Ever Feel Better
198d
Lover's Spit
Cause = Time
he told her
he said she'd be a lesbian
if she didn't love dick so much
he said she was so pretty now
beautiful now that she dressed like a girl
he offered his face for her to sit on
a minute before she kicked him out of her house
he barked at her how he'd like to lick
her and where he would start
and how he would finish
and she found this information
to be too intimate
too much even coming from brunch
coming from a strange man walking down the street behind her
he whistled and screamed
he throttled he croaked
he asked if the drapes matched the carpet
he asked her if she spits or swallows
he asked her who's her daddy now
he pushed her head down
and then fucked her while she was blacked out
he said she was too independent
he didn't like her male friends
and thought she must be fucking them
of course
she got dolled dressed up
made up real nice
and he took her out for a meal she paid for
cuz he left his wallet and shoes at home
but gave her a trash can
a kettle and something black from victorias closet
and talked about her blow job skills over dessert
he spent the night with some friends who were girls
and made her feel bad for it
so he called her a whore a slut
and then tried to fuck her
he said she looked like she hadn't had any for some time
and said she could have a threeway with him
he said wow you look like you've gotten so much smaller
are you anorexic again
wait - you're small but you were tiny then
she told him she just had a bad break up
and he woke her up one evening naked
claiming that she was coming on to him
and for fucks sake
he paid for her plane ticket
what was she thinking
she clearly wasn't
and he told her he didn't know what love is
till the one day he changed his mind
and he told her he could never trust her again
and then he said he was a premature ejaculator
because before he became an atheist
he had been a catholic
cuz that makes sense
and he told her that he was pro choice
but if she ever got pregnant
he wouldn't be
which made her decide
that if she were ever pregnant
she wouldn't tell him
and was thankful she never was
and one day she really thought
she really wondered
if the dick was all worth it
that maybe
just maybe
....
if she didn't love dick so much
he said she was so pretty now
beautiful now that she dressed like a girl
he offered his face for her to sit on
a minute before she kicked him out of her house
he barked at her how he'd like to lick
her and where he would start
and how he would finish
and she found this information
to be too intimate
too much even coming from brunch
coming from a strange man walking down the street behind her
he whistled and screamed
he throttled he croaked
he asked if the drapes matched the carpet
he asked her if she spits or swallows
he asked her who's her daddy now
he pushed her head down
and then fucked her while she was blacked out
he said she was too independent
he didn't like her male friends
and thought she must be fucking them
of course
she got dolled dressed up
made up real nice
and he took her out for a meal she paid for
cuz he left his wallet and shoes at home
but gave her a trash can
a kettle and something black from victorias closet
and talked about her blow job skills over dessert
he spent the night with some friends who were girls
and made her feel bad for it
so he called her a whore a slut
and then tried to fuck her
he said she looked like she hadn't had any for some time
and said she could have a threeway with him
he said wow you look like you've gotten so much smaller
are you anorexic again
wait - you're small but you were tiny then
she told him she just had a bad break up
and he woke her up one evening naked
claiming that she was coming on to him
and for fucks sake
he paid for her plane ticket
what was she thinking
she clearly wasn't
and he told her he didn't know what love is
till the one day he changed his mind
and he told her he could never trust her again
and then he said he was a premature ejaculator
because before he became an atheist
he had been a catholic
cuz that makes sense
and he told her that he was pro choice
but if she ever got pregnant
he wouldn't be
which made her decide
that if she were ever pregnant
she wouldn't tell him
and was thankful she never was
and one day she really thought
she really wondered
if the dick was all worth it
that maybe
just maybe
....
lead
one drink can turn into five
and five can lead to an angry missive
or a reckless sexual encounter
that was never worth your time
but its so much easier to give your body
in place of your heart
in lieu of your mind
its celebrated here in fact
but you all already knew that.
one touch can lead to a kiss
can lead to a broken condom
left unnoticed
or at the very least
unmentioned
leading to...
leading to...
one touch can lead to a longing
an overwhelming desire
manifested with a deadpan
consumer consumption
or mindless Internet stalking
over analyze agonizing
and dreams of a different life.
one friend can lead to another
one gift opens one more blessing
one celebration can lead to a dance
to a drink to a smoke to
one late night fuck
and sometimes
just sometimes
to one hearts door
opening leading into anothers
beyond all comprehensible sense of knowing
of being known
the essence of
wonderment
of vast imagination
one silence can lead to many
to moments too rich to share
we know more about the stars
than we do about love
yet the stars in the moonlight
can lead just to that
and five can lead to an angry missive
or a reckless sexual encounter
that was never worth your time
but its so much easier to give your body
in place of your heart
in lieu of your mind
its celebrated here in fact
but you all already knew that.
one touch can lead to a kiss
can lead to a broken condom
left unnoticed
or at the very least
unmentioned
leading to...
leading to...
one touch can lead to a longing
an overwhelming desire
manifested with a deadpan
consumer consumption
or mindless Internet stalking
over analyze agonizing
and dreams of a different life.
one friend can lead to another
one gift opens one more blessing
one celebration can lead to a dance
to a drink to a smoke to
one late night fuck
and sometimes
just sometimes
to one hearts door
opening leading into anothers
beyond all comprehensible sense of knowing
of being known
the essence of
wonderment
of vast imagination
one silence can lead to many
to moments too rich to share
we know more about the stars
than we do about love
yet the stars in the moonlight
can lead just to that
Monday, March 23, 2009
Everybody Today is Turning On...
I'm starting a liquid cleanse tom am...But this lil' number is such a charmer!
Friday, March 20, 2009
It's my Birthday!!!! It's Spring!!!!!
I am so grateful!
I am grateful to be blessed with such an amazing family. Their infinite support gives me strength and foundation. I am grateful to be blessed with such incredible friends! My old and my new, these relationships have shocked me with my own hearts capacity for loving and giving. They bring Joy and Laughter and all that is Beauty-Full into my days. I am grateful that I have a life that allows for me to give time and space to my health, wholeness and wellbeing. When you are at peace with yourself you are at peace with the world.
Happy Spring all you FunnyBunnies!!!
xoxoxoxo
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Dear Facebook
Darling,
I really do love you. Let that be known.
But...(and there is a but) I feel that our relationship has taken an unhealthy turn, and with that, I believe that we truly ought to go our separate ways.
I feel I have given up so much to dedicate myself to you, to be committed. After long months of thoughtful consideration, I finally broke it off with Myspace. It's true I messed around with Twitter for a short time, but honey, it was nothing serious and it's all over now. You were my beacon of light, and darling, now my light is dim and dull.
You allow for weird men to "poke" me incessantly and won't help me to figure out how to remove them. You quiz all my friends and tell me all the mundane details, but you don't really want to know ME. You don't really understand ME. What is my hippy name? What is my My Little Pony Character Name? What Country should I live in? I don't know how you can say you love me when all you really know is my middle name and my fake political views and yet you don't know what Character from Star Wars I am most like!
You know, I never bring it up because I don't want to come across as nagging or unsatisfied, but I feel the coldness of your love when I see the gifts of avatar snowballs or gold crowns or funny frogs that other girls seem to get from you and yet my gift inbox seems quite empty. Why must you tease me so?
All these things I could live with. The annoying threads, the vomiting of useless info into my regular email, the incredibly fucking ridiculous way you tell me who you think I may know or who you think I should be friends with (I'm an EMPOWERED woman sir!) but I cannot (and because I am DRAMATIC I shall repeat - I CANNOT GO ON!) with your new look.
You may call me shallow, but I call myself a woman of integrity. I am more interested in connection and connectivity and community and context and substance than your silly little ad scheme propaganda design. Get over yourself darling, I will never ever ever eat at Papa Johns no matter how many times you ask me to be a fucking fan (how many times do I have to tell you I am vegan before it sets down in your thick skull?) I will never ever ever go on a Celebrity Diet of Sucking D with Pills, I will never ever ever go to a hair salon in Beverly Hills, and I don't even know who the fuck Keith Urban is so stop asking me to check out his god damn concert. IT MAKES ME HATE YOU BECAUSE I HATE YOUR TASTE IN MUSIC !!!!
Sorry dear, just had to let that last one out.
I wish you well. Please don't drunk dial me anymore.
Or drunk text.
Or drunk email.
Or drunk message.
In fact, maybe you should stop drinking. There is a good program I thought I heard about. Maybe you should check your advertise sidebar.
xoxoxoxo
me
I really do love you. Let that be known.
But...(and there is a but) I feel that our relationship has taken an unhealthy turn, and with that, I believe that we truly ought to go our separate ways.
I feel I have given up so much to dedicate myself to you, to be committed. After long months of thoughtful consideration, I finally broke it off with Myspace. It's true I messed around with Twitter for a short time, but honey, it was nothing serious and it's all over now. You were my beacon of light, and darling, now my light is dim and dull.
You allow for weird men to "poke" me incessantly and won't help me to figure out how to remove them. You quiz all my friends and tell me all the mundane details, but you don't really want to know ME. You don't really understand ME. What is my hippy name? What is my My Little Pony Character Name? What Country should I live in? I don't know how you can say you love me when all you really know is my middle name and my fake political views and yet you don't know what Character from Star Wars I am most like!
You know, I never bring it up because I don't want to come across as nagging or unsatisfied, but I feel the coldness of your love when I see the gifts of avatar snowballs or gold crowns or funny frogs that other girls seem to get from you and yet my gift inbox seems quite empty. Why must you tease me so?
All these things I could live with. The annoying threads, the vomiting of useless info into my regular email, the incredibly fucking ridiculous way you tell me who you think I may know or who you think I should be friends with (I'm an EMPOWERED woman sir!) but I cannot (and because I am DRAMATIC I shall repeat - I CANNOT GO ON!) with your new look.
You may call me shallow, but I call myself a woman of integrity. I am more interested in connection and connectivity and community and context and substance than your silly little ad scheme propaganda design. Get over yourself darling, I will never ever ever eat at Papa Johns no matter how many times you ask me to be a fucking fan (how many times do I have to tell you I am vegan before it sets down in your thick skull?) I will never ever ever go on a Celebrity Diet of Sucking D with Pills, I will never ever ever go to a hair salon in Beverly Hills, and I don't even know who the fuck Keith Urban is so stop asking me to check out his god damn concert. IT MAKES ME HATE YOU BECAUSE I HATE YOUR TASTE IN MUSIC !!!!
Sorry dear, just had to let that last one out.
I wish you well. Please don't drunk dial me anymore.
Or drunk text.
Or drunk email.
Or drunk message.
In fact, maybe you should stop drinking. There is a good program I thought I heard about. Maybe you should check your advertise sidebar.
xoxoxoxo
me
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Feeling too Frisky with the Spring Breeze in Your Heels?
listen to the soothing seductions of Bill O'Reilly and never have sex again....
I'll Pinch Yr Tuchus!
Tonight: Juanita's in Highland Park
9:00P - Free - Major Brass!
Killsonic, Buyepongo, Soul Conference, Team Scrub
Monday, March 16, 2009
start a trend!
mom is always right!
If I never have to hear the phrase "Don't shit where you eat" again for the rest of my life, it will indeed be a damn good life. Srsly tho. Srsly. Let me just start off by saying that 1: It's gross.
My friend told me this story about her father trying to get her to quit smoking when she was in college. "It's just disgusting dear, it's a filthy disgusting habit. You wanna know what it's like? You want to know what smoking is like? It's like shitting in your lunch. Do you want to shit inside your lunchbox?"
Gross.
On a side note - this is the same man who told us over the course of one dinner, a double round of vodka martinis and one bottle of wine, that it would be incredibly difficult for us to find a mate in our lives because we were too intelligent for boys not to just run off intimidated. Thanks dad!
The phrase is one that by definition means "don't have romantic relations with your co-workers," although I have heard it used in so many different contexts before.
Ex. - "This is where I get my dry-cleaning done every week, hence I will not ask out the hot counter lady. (I don't want to shit where I clean?)" The bartender at your neighborhood dive... The barista at the coffee shop you go to every day... Yeah, you get it.
Breaking down "romantic relations" into two main categories, this would consist of people who are a: looking for one night stand or varying degrees of casual sex and b: looking for a person to connect with on a deeper and more substantial level. (And I believe that "dating" doesn't really exist anymore among those of my generation. Those of us who, you know, live in a secular world.) So, yeah, maybe if you are just looking for someone to fuck and could care less about what happens afterwards, maybe you shouldn't sleep with that dude who you run into every day at the gym. But if you are looking for something with meaning, does it really fucking matter where you eat? Doesn't life demand of us that we eat? Isn't that what the heart searches for and finds in the most unexpected of places, or unexpectedly in the most expected of places? Maybe we should just embrace every chance we have to create love in this world, and leave the shit out of it.
If I never have to hear the phrase "Don't shit where you eat" again for the rest of my life, it will indeed be a damn good life. Srsly tho. Srsly. Let me just start off by saying that 1: It's gross.
My friend told me this story about her father trying to get her to quit smoking when she was in college. "It's just disgusting dear, it's a filthy disgusting habit. You wanna know what it's like? You want to know what smoking is like? It's like shitting in your lunch. Do you want to shit inside your lunchbox?"
Gross.
On a side note - this is the same man who told us over the course of one dinner, a double round of vodka martinis and one bottle of wine, that it would be incredibly difficult for us to find a mate in our lives because we were too intelligent for boys not to just run off intimidated. Thanks dad!
The phrase is one that by definition means "don't have romantic relations with your co-workers," although I have heard it used in so many different contexts before.
Ex. - "This is where I get my dry-cleaning done every week, hence I will not ask out the hot counter lady. (I don't want to shit where I clean?)" The bartender at your neighborhood dive... The barista at the coffee shop you go to every day... Yeah, you get it.
Breaking down "romantic relations" into two main categories, this would consist of people who are a: looking for one night stand or varying degrees of casual sex and b: looking for a person to connect with on a deeper and more substantial level. (And I believe that "dating" doesn't really exist anymore among those of my generation. Those of us who, you know, live in a secular world.) So, yeah, maybe if you are just looking for someone to fuck and could care less about what happens afterwards, maybe you shouldn't sleep with that dude who you run into every day at the gym. But if you are looking for something with meaning, does it really fucking matter where you eat? Doesn't life demand of us that we eat? Isn't that what the heart searches for and finds in the most unexpected of places, or unexpectedly in the most expected of places? Maybe we should just embrace every chance we have to create love in this world, and leave the shit out of it.
i can haz my 15 minutes plz???
The short model call riot for ANTM. Someone probably broke off another girls press on nail, and someone called another girl a skank.
Nothing quite like thousands of delusional short ladies in heels all running in the streets. Are they running from their insecurities?
Nothing quite like thousands of delusional short ladies in heels all running in the streets. Are they running from their insecurities?
OMFG
Vampire themed ad for o.b.
Made by an all male-creative team who apparently didn't know that women don't really want to be sold tampons by an image of a guy with one in his mouth. "I will drink up your monthly menses!" Ummm. Fail. and Gross.
Made by an all male-creative team who apparently didn't know that women don't really want to be sold tampons by an image of a guy with one in his mouth. "I will drink up your monthly menses!" Ummm. Fail. and Gross.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
you can spend your time but you can never buy it back again
I haven't written any new poetry in a while. Maybe it's because I have been just been trying to raise a new, a beautiful, poetic conciousness to my days instead. Maybe it's the paradigm shift I am witnessing in myself (as objectively as I possibly can) but all my pieces previously written currently connect with me about as much as my cell structure of a year ago, 6 months ago, one week ago even does. I mean, it's all born from the same imprint, the same light, the same energy, yet...it's transformed.
I remember a show I was in in high school where a monologue of mine began with "Does one accept or create their own destiny? Endings are only relative to the fear of them." I have never forgotten those words...
This is our free will, to make every moment count. At the end of this week I turn 28, and all I know is that I have had enough wasted moments for my life already. I'm done with that. This weekend has been so incredible and lovely and happy because of the choices I have made on how to ride these waves. And to embrace my days and the people I encounter with loving thoughts. I've caught myself in the past weeks about to complain, or say something snarky, and instead of letting that out of my mouth, I am reformulating that in my head. Is this really how I want to spend my time, or, can I take my yoga practice off my mat for real? Can I approach this position, and instead of saying it's too hard, or it hurts, or I can't do it, or I'm not graceful, can I just say that I am proud of myself and my effort and I am going to fill this moment with my Joy? Can I share that Joy?
How do we spend our time, so that we would never want to buy it back again?
Make it all count. It's too overwhelmingly
precious and awesome.
I remember a show I was in in high school where a monologue of mine began with "Does one accept or create their own destiny? Endings are only relative to the fear of them." I have never forgotten those words...
This is our free will, to make every moment count. At the end of this week I turn 28, and all I know is that I have had enough wasted moments for my life already. I'm done with that. This weekend has been so incredible and lovely and happy because of the choices I have made on how to ride these waves. And to embrace my days and the people I encounter with loving thoughts. I've caught myself in the past weeks about to complain, or say something snarky, and instead of letting that out of my mouth, I am reformulating that in my head. Is this really how I want to spend my time, or, can I take my yoga practice off my mat for real? Can I approach this position, and instead of saying it's too hard, or it hurts, or I can't do it, or I'm not graceful, can I just say that I am proud of myself and my effort and I am going to fill this moment with my Joy? Can I share that Joy?
How do we spend our time, so that we would never want to buy it back again?
Make it all count. It's too overwhelmingly
precious and awesome.
FTW!
Yoga. Massage. Acupuncture. Siesta. Late night run @ the Res with the gypsy queen and the pup. Wrote a song. Ginger Tea. Bedtime.
"Today Was a Good Day"
(I somehow inspired the gypsy queen to start these focus points of the day that I've been committing to. Today, mine was Love and she chose Peaceful Joy. Adam focused his yoga class on all these intense heart-opening poses! I can't articulate it - but I actually felt as though I was literally making love with myself. I just surrendered and was flying through bakasana's like never before with this ridiculously amazing laughing Buddha smileyface and my dear friend cried tears of Joy 5 times.... Yummy. Yummy. Yummy.)
"Today Was a Good Day"
(I somehow inspired the gypsy queen to start these focus points of the day that I've been committing to. Today, mine was Love and she chose Peaceful Joy. Adam focused his yoga class on all these intense heart-opening poses! I can't articulate it - but I actually felt as though I was literally making love with myself. I just surrendered and was flying through bakasana's like never before with this ridiculously amazing laughing Buddha smileyface and my dear friend cried tears of Joy 5 times.... Yummy. Yummy. Yummy.)
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
"Some women give Advil - I give truffles!"
I went to this old gypsy brazilian lady yesterday to get a bikini wax. As she pulled the first strip off I shouted out "OH MY GOD!" Talk about taking pain with Grace. She looks at me and says "Darling, God has nothing to do with it. Here, it is just you and me." Then she turns around while muttering "They are going to think we are wrestling in here" and comes back commands me to "Open your mouth!" and shoves a truffle in my face.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Friday, March 6, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Monday, March 2, 2009
and the universe provides...
It doesn't take 28 days, or 28 hours, or 28 minutes. A moment, a recognition, a moment. The only path that matters is the Path of Heart. I see it, engage it, play. It's all playtime here. I open up my thoracic diaphragm to release the breathe of the gypsy song. I stretch my ribcage to open up and release the wild frenzy of passion into the breeze, as warm as wet as cooling as the air of Costa Rica. I lift my leg to wrap around the rope swinging my body over up to fly through the air. My core is my strength. Fueled by my heart. My intense and huge and magnificent muscle of life. I will soon be playing my accordion upside down on the highwires. I make love to life. Make Love. These moments are delicious, and they are what we are here for. To share this pleasure with touch assistance and grace. Dancing with Grace. I don't need 28 days to focus on what I already knew. It's here. It's now. Love.
losing iron
Bleeding for 20 days straight can make a girl bruise easily. The marks on my skin from trapeze and rope could easily be mistaken for the aftermath of some extreme sex session involving props. The blood stops. The hormones adjust. The bruises will soon be gone. The bruises will soon be gone.
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