A fight broke out. Origin, unknown. Yelling, bowing up, removal of clothing to prepare the fists for full swing. Women, screaming on the side, using logic and shrillness to diffuse the climax of this scene. A child darts out, and yanked aside by the arm like a precious stuffed monkey, she might have wondered during her arc through the air between the sidewalk and safe haven of store door, "why are they fighting?" Circling ensues, like prize fighters in the ring, like a bull and a matador intent on the others first move. An arm is extended, the hand rigid. Fed by the world's movie bred illusions, the air waits to be filled with gunshots. But no, it's an olive branch, not a piece of deathly steel. The opponent's body language stutters, and then comprehension clears the tension from the air as if it was erased. They grasp hands, a man's handshake. Much gesturing and explaining leads way to a man hug, the stout grip of opposite paws, the chest touch, and the vigorous back pounding. Resolution sings a bittersweet song. It is much better to be relieved and whole than to be proven right and dead.

All of this was executed in English, in my neighborhood, at the end of a busy day. It could have happened on mars in a Martian dialect, for all I understood. I don't even have to leave my house - there's theatre in the streets.

I walk A LOT. Which I love. And my feet hate. My toes and heels look like they're about to fall off. I think they might, just to prove a point. And walking in fit-lops in New York City gives new meaning to the term "Jiffy feet." Alicia ain't got nothin' on me no more.

So, I'm trying to take mytendenciesendancies and use them as a ladder to climb to a different level in my life. Because, as I've said countless time before, the things I fret about, the things that I really let fray my nerves, they are stupid things, compared to what others have to worry about. I have to concentrate on being as large in reality as I am in my mind, in my fiction. It is a struggle for me to use my voice, but I have to find ways to give it strength. My life is GRAND, isn't it?

I've mentioned it here before, but I just want to put the thought in your hearts again. My Aunt Jan Kibler (not my Dad's sister, but my Mom's best friend) is not doing well. She is in the hospital right now, and the easiest to say is that it's complications from surgery. Please pray for her. For her recovery, her strength. And pray for her husband, and My Boys. She really needs all of the positive energy she can get. She has much to live for.

PURSUE HAPPINESS.

Who knew that happiness could take so many forms?

I don’t suppose
That you could hold my heart
For but a minute
I’ll take it back
When it is done
In the meantime
It’s better that you have it.

Meaning no offense
Just trying to be heartfelt
Itself
This beating thing
Has turned me in again
To a fluttering bull
Pirouetting through
The Devotion china shop.

This thing
Out of touch with my brain
Tells me that the china shop
Is safe
Is sane
But no, oh not to be fooled
I belong in a heartland
Where I can stampede.

Not tiptoe.

So you can have it
For now
Give it back
When it’ll let go
And has learned the lesson
That most seem already to know
Risk is necessary
Chance is the nourishing blood,
Understood, but love is dual.

Pride and disinterest are not.



Step aside please. I have a beautiful life to attend to and create everyday, so I don’t have time for you, damn meddling thoughts. I am right with the world. Living my dream. Stepping out of my comfort zone and pushing myself beyond my limit every chance I receive. So be gone, your shenanigans are not needed here.

Once again, I am turning to ambiguous, generic yet meaningful encrypted thoughts to convey how I feel, instead of trying to push an envelope that I have mailed and gotten back, return to sender, countless times. I have to be constantly reminded that just b/c I feel a certain way, have standards of treatment and a specific way of doing things, doesn’t mean that all of the people I have interacted with share my views.

For example…you, you big f-ing shadow.

I have the worst possible track record when it comes to caring about men who don’t reciprocate. Or maybe they did care for a fraction of an instant, and I chose to interpret too much or just not let go when the time came to do so. Or maybe they did but I was just much more than they could handle. Or maybe they did but I pushed too hard. Or maybe they did but they were UNABLE TO DEAL WITH THEIR OWN SHIT and therefore had not the capacity to try and deal with mine too (do you see why just THINKING is exhausting for me?).

You will notice, of the above “or maybes” only one shares the burden with one of the past…things. Some people can accept the fact that things don’t work out, for whatever reason, and then they, what? Say it with me, class, “MOVE ON.” I have a horrible habit of blaming myself and thinking that I could have changed things, when really things weren’t even worth the effort to change, because I was the only one trying.

Well, I’ve moved on. I am willing, ready and able to step away from fear and stop holding doubt’s hand. I am trying to make better choices, and take more risks, if you can do both at the same time. My life is constantly reshaping itself, and my brain and heart and soul are constantly shifting their focus, so that eventually I will be able to obtain my goals. I know how I deserve to be treated, because I have been treated so well all of my life.

What I’m having a hard time understanding is why I cried. Why I worried. Why my first instinct (and my instincts are usually true to form) was to call, and even if I wasn’t acknowledged, to let it be known that I was praying and thinking about someone who finds it easier than breathing to pretend that I don’t exist. It may be taking the higher road, and learning to swallow the swords of pride and stubbornness.

After I have dealt with the rollercoaster o’ crap that usually accompanies anything having to do with those who were once in my life but now aren’t for whatever reason, I am moved to this shocking sentiment. Whatever. All of the thinking in the world will not bring me the answers. But living my life without looking back at regret will bring me a better future. For all of the ways that I struggle, I know one thing to be true…

I am me, and I am damn good at it. And that’s all I can ask of myself, isn’t it?

That being said.

I heard about your accident, and I am terribly sorry you are hurt. My family is praying for you, and I wish you the best and quickest of recoveries. I would say that if you need me, I am here to talk to, but that would be futile, because you should already know that. If you don’t, it’s not because I haven’t tried. Too much.

I love you, all of you, and I miss you so very much. Thank you for listening, for cheering for me, for reminding me that I can do this even when I am sobbing and hollow with homesickness. The plan is to surpass even my expectations, which are very high. But whatever I do, I love it here, and there is no doubt in my mind that I am doing the right thing.

The things that I am worried about are so trivial.

There are things in this world that terrify me, infuriate me, insult my sensibilities right down to the very being of who I am. There are countless situations that I cannot control, and standing on the side-lines, feel that there has to be better solutions to a multitude of sins. But what am I doing? Worrying about whether or not I text-messaged a stale old ghost? Wondering where I'm gonna get a job, IF I can get a job that I want, if it will afford me the ability to live the life that I've been accustomed to?

Well, a big fat shut the hell up to these petty grievances. I have a place to live. I have food, clean water. My family and friends are safe and even if I get a job at a DRY CLEANERS for the interim, at LEAST I HAVE A CITY TO FIND A JOB IN.

I am SO SORRY. Half of the world that is not bitching about gas prices is wondering what to do, where to start, if they could even do enough. I believe that we could all walk out of the door today and find some way to help. If you don't know, figure it out. I think anything would do right now. If you can't afford money or time, which I understand, then pray. In whatever form you find prayer useful. We can all be useful, and if you find a need, please let me know. I will be searching too.

A few lines that calmed me today:

"...How do I guess at the future? Based on the omens of the present. If you pay attention to the present, you can improve upon it. And, if you improve on the present, what comes later will also be better. Forget about the future, and live each day according to the teachings, confident that God loves his children."

"There is only one way to learn...It's through action. Everything you need to know you have learned through your journey."

"Don't give into your fears. If you do, you won't be able to talk to your heart."

And most importantly, which you all remind me constantly of:

"This is what we call love. When you are loved, you can do anything in creation. When you are loved, there is no need at all to understand what's happening, because everything happens within you, and even men can turn themselves into the wind. As long as the wind helps, of course."

-The Alchemist

My prayers are with you, you people of the ruins. I am sure that your hearts have filled past bursting, and you are just concentrating on getting them to beat again. I am so sorry for what you have been through and what you still have to go through. My prayers are for strength, unity, and healing. Bless.

A member of my extended family, as well as the loved ones that surround her, is suffering right now. Aunt Jan Kibler, I am thinking of you, and sending good energy your way. I love you very much and hope that this road isn't too long or too hard to bear.


I can do this, because I can do anything. I can keep my chin up, and I can rock this place. The way that I want to rock this place. I have so much at my finger-tips right now, it's humbling. But the energy of this city is empowering. I tell you, you can feel it. It's palpable. I don't know what's going to happen or how I'm going to do this...hell, I don't know anything at all. But I think that's half the fun. That's half of the experience in itself.

I have a view of the river
the strain of a song
tiny feet that will pitter
and a resolve that is strong
I'm watching aliens in windows
their naked expressions
my landscape
and great joy in a hand shake
this city is in me
been all along
I will court it and nurture it
and see what will come.
You wrap your arms around me
and I will accept these urban flaws
You use my energy to power your lights
And I'll use your lights to build
my energy into the power I desire.

Thank you for the opportunity.

Check list:

Yankees game (ten rows up, phenominal) check
Harbour cruise to observe the skyline of my New City, check
Getting on the wrong train, check
Giggling hysterically at the fabulous accents, check and double check
rushing off of the subway to find a break-dancing crew performing, then thinking, "My God, this is what I came here for," check
getting my ass grabbed twice in two days in the subway, check
wittnessing some kind of drama at Grand Central Station and thinking "God, what am I doing here?" check, once again.

The list grows everyday. All of my senses and emotions are %100 engaged and it is gloriously draining. This is what I wanted. Being gloriously drained leaves absolutely no energy for misbehaving.

I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT I'M HERE!!!

"So tomorrow is just another day that I get to dance..."

I may falter, stumble, hesitate, and fall, but I will always get back up to dance. You can be sure of that.

Everything I see, everything I hear, all of the signs...

they're all about New York.

And that's good.

I could sell a book filled with all of the pep-talks I've been giving myself everytime I see a photo or a shot of the city on TV. I have a feeling I am going to be bruised from pinching myself for several weeks to come. And honestly it hasn't all really hit me yet. That may be a long time coming, definitely when I least expect it.

So now, I have to condense all of my into an essence. And I have to find the words to say thank you, the RIGHT way. Because without you people...I can't quite even imagine.

"Awww, yes sir! I am a bitch. A crazy bitch! Ask him," she says, pointing to yet another specter of boyfriends past, "I'm sure he'd love to tell you all about it." Leaving him with a wink and a blown kiss, she walked away, grinning through the turmoil that festered inside.

And the truth is, I just can't help myself. You, collectively, might think that the inability to let go is something that is unique to the situation you were a part of. Nope, this is a personality problem that will always handicap me. I've had thoughts of changing it, and maybe someday I will develop the resolution and willpower to do so. But until then, I'll just have to work around it, won't I? Who knows; maybe I'm addicted to the drama, and I call it upon myself...wait, that's the absolute truth, what do I mean, who knows?

I am a walking contradiction in terms. I don't need a man to be happy and have a fabulous life doing what I am doing, even if I drive everyone, especially me, crazy in the process. I don't need that space in my life filled right now, but I want it to be eventually. I want the ideal, and I am so busy trying to locate it that I'm blind to all other things.

"Kelly, the dog did it."
"Do you believe in fate?"
"Call me when you are the person that you want to be."
"Please welcome, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Chastain!"
"What do you want me to tell you, Kelly? What do you want me to say?"

I "fall in love" with everything that stands still long enough to deal with me. I find the ones who are intense, who are hurt and confused, and I am drawn to them because I am fascinated by larger, male versions of me. I mistake physical things for emotional things and even when I know better I try to self-medicate with hugs and caresses that leave me scrubbed completely clean of anything real. I think that I miss a person when really I miss wrapping him around me as insulation against all of the issues that I am trying to ignore. I push too hard for too long 'til eventually even I'm asking me, "what the HELL is wrong with you, psycho?"

And I am filled with the pervasive desire to apologize, everytime I horrify myself. I want everyone to know that I am not really like this, that I am strong and not needy and I don't really need anyone. I constantly want to make right what I am constantly doing wrong, which is giving you the impression that this is about you. No need to pretend that either of us was perfect. It just wasn't right, and even though I know that, true connections for me are so few and far between I am fierce about letting them go. What I forget when my brain goes numb is that there is nothing that I can do when the feeling is not mutual.

All I ever wanted, before I periodically make things magnitudes worse than they really are, was closure. From all of you. I struggle with a lot that none of you know about, and it has become the pattern for men in my life to perpetuate my worst nightmare. I also hold with the cycling of wanting the ones who are most likely to do this.

The one who I know isn't likely at all to do this might well be out of my reach.

God's will rules my life, so I'll just have to say he must have bigger and badder lined up for me.

If you read this, think whatever you want. I am done with the parallel universe thing. I am tired of floating over my body watching myself do things I would never do when sober or thoughtful. I will always be praying, and you will always be a thread in the fabric that I am creating. Even if you couldn't find it in you to do this, and I couldn't find it in me to not take it back...

I am through.

I am really struggling here.

I am dealing with some anger. Some fear. Insecurity. Of course some anxiety but I can't stop breathing, can I?

I am trying to figure out what makes me shut down. So I can stop it. I don't like working against myself because it consumes so much energy. I draw into myself and become despondent, disappointed when I am lonely. The very independence that has become my anthem and my sole reason for being single and bitchy tends to isolate me, and I am frustrated by it.

My body is numb, and my being is listless. I have to stop this.

I refuse to keep on defeating myself.

Success, love, faith...No, wait a minute.

Love, faith success-better, but...

Faith, love, success. There we go.

A wrangling of my priorities into the right order. Harder than it looks.

This will make me stronger. I know it will. I'll be damned if I'm backing out now, I've already planned the party.

Strong is good. Hard-hearted is terribly inadequate for me. It's tough skinned, the old ticker is. But it's not solid brick. Yet. Work with me here, ok?

I don't need you.

I've got friends who will stand up for me in the face of an asshole consumer...
and a computer that plays DVDs. Sounds simple, but after what you had to offer me, what more can a girl want?

And yes, I did say thank you. Thank you for making me realize that there are things I need to change, but there are also things that are so good, the purity of such is enough to make me cry, again.

As long as I'm crying, I know that I'm still real. And there is not much that's more important to me than being real.

God, I am such a train wreck. It's fascinating, really.

And I don't understand it. Happy as can be, excited over a big step in my life, all my friends surrounding me, plenty of dates to take or leave...and what do I do?

"I like the dark and mysterious look."

I go out, I have fun goofing around and watching my dancing partner dance and dancing myself. I have good conversation with Amber, I fall into bed exhausted...AND WHAT DO I DO?

Plenty of people that love me and want to know me and care about my well-being. All these people who DON'T ignore me, DON'T make me feel bad, and ARE productive parts of my life. AND...what in the HELL do I do?

I...me myself and I, make me feel bad. I blame it on no one else but me.

"What do you want me to say, Kelly?"

I feel so bad right now, I don't ever want to hear you say anything again.

I'm such a fool.

I am strangely calm.

Even though I have a little over 2 weeks to sort, organize, have a garage sale, buy a plane ticket, pack...etc., etc., etc.

Calm before the deluge, I would say. I'm in the eye of the hurricane right now.

Very soon I am expecting emotional raindrops the size of basketballs. Winds at gale force pulling me in every direction. a vacuum inside where a lot things used to be...

Will they really be gone, or just jostled into another position out of necessity?

I know you are there. I know things are rough. And I wish you would talk to me, 'cause I'm scared out of my mind. You know it's not often that I say the word "need" to another human being. And at the same time, I understand the silence. So, I'm just waiting patiently.

Um, so now they have Peach Absolut...or Absolut Peach, or whatever other moniker they've attached to this new peach flavored vodka...yum-ee! As if I needed an excuse to drink more vodka, hmmmm.

Well, typically I bitch about my job and all of the idiot people that I encounter, so let's change it up a little. I had the nicest group of tables, collectively, than I've had in a LONG time. Sometimes I have A nice table or A nice round of tables, and this time, every table from beginning to end was cool. So there is hope for human kind as we know it. Because I had one evening of nice tables. I think my perception is a little off.

While I'm on a pleasant faux-rant, which is rare for me, I have to say anger at another's situation has made me reflect on my past in a more positive light. I've run the gamut with ex-boyfriends, from a guy who took up cheating on me like it was a sport to one who really and truly held my heart. Throw in a non-relationship and a man that still makes me want to scream, with a sprinkling of "you've got to be kidding me's" and you've got my basic recipe for love. But while the treatment might have been lacking, they all were really good guys. Well...yeah, some were/are/will always be really good mixed up guys. I am angry for my friend (angry meaning it's gonna be hard to keep from knocking this guys teeth into his head) but it's made me realize, as much drama as I have been through they never would have done me like this. And that makes me weirdly happy.

I'm prayin' for ya, little thing.

I feel brittle, like the outermost layer of an onion skin...
My skin is pallid and even my lips have lost color, and my body aches...
Is this stress rearing it's ugly head?

Or am I freakin' sick? All I want to do is sleep, I have a slightly sore throat...oh GOD, what if I have MONO?

Well, at least my DO is cute...hard to go in there lookin' like death warmed over though, isn't it? It would figure - getting ever closer to making a major move and I would get the kissing disease and I'm not even damn fortunate enough to be kissin' anyone, um, lately...

Probably I'm just a drama queen, which is what 90% of what goes on in my world can be chalked up to...

If any of you vague handful of people who read this thing are wondering where the explosion of verbal dia...*gross*...one more again...where the explosion of verbal diatribes (ha, tricked ya) has suddenly come from, the answer is way simpler than it usually is. No drama (past the norm) and nothing major going on (past the moving), but my superb parents got me a laptop (one word or two?) as an early b-day gift and I have just discovered that there is nothing cooler than lying in bed in the dark and typing away until my little heart is content.

Obviously by the ridiculous amount that I am posting, it is never content.

Or, probably more true to form is that there is a ton of stuff that I need to do and whatever else would I do but avoid doing it?

Ya know what's funny? I have known those Kibler boys all of my life. I've watched two get married and one become a Daddy to a precious little thing with another on the way, and I realized something that I have already verbalized several times: those boys have ruined me for settling. There is no way in this world I would accept anything less than what I see them giving the world. They are three more additions to my list of proof that there are still real men walking around, that they are honorable, fun, caring and dependable. (Not to say that any of those boys don't have their quirks, 'cause they all do. But aren't we females a li'l, um, quirky ourselves?) So that brings the list to about...well, whose counting? You know who you are.

THESE WORDS ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH. THEY ARE NOT WORKING THEY ARE MEAGER THEY HAVE BEEN "MEASURED AND FOUND WANTING..." DON'T EVEN KNOW IF I QUOTED THAT RIGHT-WHY DOES IT TAKE ANGER AND DEEP SADNESS TO DRAW ON PAPER ANYTHING WORTHY OF WHAT I SAY AND FEEL IN MY HEAD AND SOUL?

*pause for breath*

I KEEP THREATENING THAT ONE DAY I WILL EXPLODE AND THEN NOBODY WILL KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH ME ESPECIALLY IF THEY ARE THERE WHEN IT HAPPENS SOME SAY THAT I AM TOO NICE AND OTHERS SURELY THINK THAT I AM A RAVING LUNATIC OR AT THE VERY LEAST A BITCH, A SPECTRUM THAT I FIND AMUSING AND COMFORTING BECAUSE IT MEANS THAT MY LIFE IS NOT BORING AND I AM NOT LIKE YOU SOMETIMES I DON'T EVEN THINK THOSE THAT ARE CLOSE TO ME KNOW WHO I TRULY AM OR IF I'M NOT SOMETHING IN THE MIDDLE PROBABLY BECAUSE I HAVE A HARD TIME COMING OFF THIS EVEN KEEL THAT IS DRIVING ME CRAZY EVEN THOUGH I RANGE FROM HIGH-MAINTENANCE-HI-MY-NAME-IS-KELLY-AKIN-TO-THE-SUN SO PLEASE REVOLVE AROUND ME *pant, pant* TO LET ME LAY ON THE FLOOR SO YOU CAN WALK ALL OVER ME NO REALLY IT IS MY PLEASURE...

*pause rant to contemplate that statement*

TRULY I DON'T ALLOW MYSELF TO BE TREATED THE WAY I WAS IN THE PAST ANYMORE, BUT STILL I AM TIRED OF BITCHING AND WONDERING ABOUT ME AND I SURE AS SHOOTIN' AM TIRED OF WONDERING AND BITCHING ABOUT YOU ALL I WANT IS TO LET GO OF THESE THINGS THAT I CANNOT CONTROL BUT EVERYTIME I DO YOU ARE STANDING IN MY DREAMS IN MY FIELD OF VISION WHEN I WAKE AND I SEE YOUR EYES AND I WANT TO HOLD YOU AND FIX ALL THAT IS SO CLEARLY BROKEN BUT THEN I SECOND GUESS MYSELF AND WONDER IF A ROLE HASN'T BEEN CREATED TO...TO...BBBAAAAAHH! I DON'T KNOW CREATED TO DO WHAT, CRAZY? AND THEN I FIND SMALL THINGS AND SEE SMALL THINGS AND REMEMBER SMALL THINGS LIKE YOU HOLDING ME AGAINST YOU, NOT LETTING ME GO STOPPING IN THE MIDDLE OF EVERYTHING JUST TO FEEL ME AGAINST YOU...AND I CRY. I CAN'T SEE THE FOREST FOR THE TREES. EACH LITTLE SAPLING WINDS ITSELF AROUND MY HEART AND MAKES ME FORGET ALL THAT I HAVE TO OFFER AND WHAT I REALLY WANT IS MORE THAN JUST MY HEART TO BE ENGAGED BUT MY SOUL AND MIND TOO AND MY LIFE...I WANT SOMEONE TO BE A PART OF MY LIFE AND WHY,OH WHY IS THAT SO DAMN HARD?

I AM TIRED OF PRETENDING THAT I DON'T CARE. 'CAUSE EVERYONE KNOWS, EVEN WHEN I HAVE GIVEN UP, COME TO UNDERSTAND THE FUTILITY, AND WALKED AWAY, I STILL F-ING CARE AND ISN'T THAT JUST A CATCH-22?


WELL.

Maybe the red bull wasn't such a good idea after all, I'm thinkin'.

No words, right? No coherent sentences?

'CAUSE GOD JUST ERASED THEM.

WHAT YOU SEE

A soliloquy.
All you might've given me.
Full words, stillborn.
Hit the air,
heartbeat never formed.
Breathed away
on the wind
Please stay, please, please
remember me.

Couldn't hurt you
if I wanted to
nor love you
if I chose.
Loose you
from my mind,
because-
return the love?
Mercy no
you might slip
the pose.

Cynical
is how you found me
and cynical is how I leave.
Who does this,
who deals with it-
please please, stay,
remember me, please-
And still stands
to face the world and fight
with not but a
tricky mask,
supposedly the armor of your bones,
and yet wait,
where are David's stones?

Funny though.
I understand.
And my heart
has died
each time.
One day
he will look at me,
my heart will gasp
stutter, and stay alive.
A dialogue. All that I need.
Even when more is given me.
For you
to see
what I see.

Don't push me away now...

Status at this very moment: Excited about the little things.

Biggest worry: Getting a job, a real job, and nothing but a job that will afford me the ability to live,AND eat, in NYC. Maybe to experience life some too. Oh, and some clothes. I like to be warm. Man, it's gonna be a coooold winter.

Constant mantra: You can come back, Kel. You can always come back.

Tear jerker: I'm a crier. Mostly when nobody can see me. And I'm ok with that. But man, I think I'm getting dehydrated. I pass the beach, *sniffle* see a bald eagle take to the sky, *lip smush* wake up to the sunshine flooding my room and wallow in the warmth as I stretch myself into consciousness and it's an hour before I get out of bed because I am in the clutches of yet another crying jag. At least I'm not one to run from true emotion.

And to you I say: Wait for it. It's coming.

My EYEBALLS hurt...

Man, I'm tired. And it makes me feel like such a slacker. Busy? Yes. Stressed? Well, a certain level follows me around regardless, doesn't it? Not sleeping much or well? Hard to when you can't turn off the faucet that is your brain. Even when I dream...

So ok, there are reasons to be tired but STILL. Comparatively (which is typically a dirty word to me) there are people out there (whom I respect and admire for their accomplishments, so it's kosher to judge myself against them occasionally) who deal with so much more and aren't reduced to a sniveling squint-eyed hurricane of a mess when face with a tad of adversity.

I get four hours of sleep, wake up, and think of all of the things I have to do, soon, including dragging my butt off to work in the travesty we call a restaurant, and I'm ready to start sucking my thumb again.

Yes, I know I am hard on myself. Strangely enough, I think this is what my personality lives for. Because I am thriving on it. All of this work will show results, and in the end I will be happier for having done it. Even if I cry a lot while I do it.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to locate my pillowcase, aka, the "B".

OH MY GOD, there's more!
Feast or famine, folks. Feast or famine.

Nevermind that I am doing everything in my power to keep from doing what I'm supposed to do. I don't care what you say, there are skills that just come naturally to some people. As does procrastination to me. And damn, I'm good at it.

Is it in me to be patient with the immature ones? Am I so arrogant as the think that I am better, that I have it all figured out while they are just annoyingly lost and almost cute in their little dramas? Is this the attitude that come naturally to mind?

Yes. And then I remind 25 yr. old self that it wasn't two months ago that I was parading down the street at 3 AM in nothing but a bathrobe, on a mission that can only be described as petty and mean-spirited. Even though I was drunk, come on, that was stupid. Then I get to thinking of the time that I got into a fight in the parking lot of Dunes. Whoa, a whole load of wrist-slapping words come screaming to mind here- ummm...tacky, very un-classy, uncontrolled, demeaning, humiliating...a night which led me yet again to wandering my neighborhood alone during the wee hours of the morning. Well, at least I wasn't driving because that would be moronic, wouldn't it? No worries, that was my latest indiscretion of choice. because, when it comes right down to it, all of these things were choices. Bad ones. So I understand that I cannot control myself or my environment 100% of the time, and that I am woefully hard on myself when I do lose control. This makes me much less apt to leap into judgement of others after reviewing my track record of dumbness.

MY HAIR EATS STRAWS.
Um-hmmm, that's what I said.
Oh, and crab quesadilla make my belly MAD at me...

Being a responsible grown-up is what's going to kill me. Ironic, isn't it? Being a responsible grown-up is what kills just about everybody. And have you noticed that those who deny gtowing up seem younger and have more fun? Although, I guess it's all in your definition of fun. "Depth" and "meaningfulness" are increasingly more important to me. Apparently that's what gets us all in the end.

Finding the last card that my Gramie was physically able to sign her name to made me feel a lot of things. After I cried like a baby and poor-me'd over how much I miss her, I realized that her life was something that my life just might turn out to be - an outline for loved ones that we leave behind to follow. A blueprint from which I can trace shape into my own life and fill in the blanks with what is real to me. We all wallow around 80% of the time trying to figure out the meaning of our lives and the purpose that we are to fulfill while we are here. Maybe it's way too selfish to expect that we'll ever know what we've been sent here to accomplish. Maybe we are here to drop little pebbles behind us as we go for the next ones to follow. We may not reach the grandest scheme, if we're not meant to. But maybe we're paving a path for those that are.

Having said that, I'm perfectly ok with being way too selfish. I want the grandest scheme. I will always tilt my ear towards heaven for God's instructions, and doing so makes me expect to do big things. I can only hope to create a legacy that my children and grandchindren want to be a part of, just like my family has done for me.

And I'm learning how to do that from great people. I am humbled and envigored daily by my faith. My love is constantly tested but proves to be tempered steel...made stronger every time it's shoved into the fire. My friends amaze me with the lives that they are creating, the brazen way that they face life, and the love and faith that they invest in me. I promise that your investment is sound, and I will make you proud. My family inspires me with the understanding that there really are good people roaming this earth. No matter how much I question humankind I am cast to my knees when I look into my cousin's eyes and see pureness and hope and mischief, when I am in the prescence of the deep faith of my grandparents or the inate sense of honor, respect and commitment that my Mom and Dad posess in their lives.

So, I might never be a rock star or a rocket scientist or Secretary of State or Queen of the world, but it will be known that I was here. Even if I just have to make a really big sign that says "Kelly was here!" If it comes down to that, it is my constant prayer that there are little souls who are meant to come after me and reckon with the good that I swear is here to find.

That's the challenge, and God I love every minute of it.

A prayer:

KNOW NO BOUNDARIES. Just as you are:
on your knees, testing your wings.
imprisoned, struggling.
content, entirely free-
LIVE. Measure your heartbeat in whatever way you see fit. Make mistakes and be successful. Cry and laugh and stumble and dance. DO IT ALL.

And understand this. I will always be praying for you, thinking about you, knowing that you will do good things for this unintelligible place we call home. Don't doubt that I am here. My power is in my thoughts, my words, my soul. And I have decided that we will make it through this world together. Feel cherished, because you are and forever will be.

Amen.

Good-bye, wonderful woman. Thank you for the strength of your red.

STOP POKING THE BEAR, GOOFUS!!!

The meat of the issue, the very heart of the cow is that I am overcoming/have overcome a lot of issues. And I do mean ISSUES. But just because I have learned to put said brain glitches in their place doesn't mean that they don't pop full force out of their cage every now and again. 'Cause a cage still allows for the sound to escape. You can still see the little frights. They may be contained and unable to inflict as much damage as they used to, but it's not smart to let my soul 'round the cage that often. My soul has a tendency to poke the bear, even when occasionally it is unable to deal with the consequences.

"Oww! That HURT! But he seemed like such a nice bear. Nevermind he just bit the crap outta my arm, I should reach right through these bars and try to pet him again. Uh-oh! There went a finger! Poor guy. He's just misunderstood. I'd be mad if I was in a cage too. See! I understand you! So you should let me pet you, even though your low-rumbling growl indicates to me that you don't want me to. But you don't really know what you want, do you, you adorable little confused thing...well really, who needs both hands, anyway?"

My ability to see the bad and rationalize it away, forget it, overlook it...WHAT-ever, makes me prone to think that, even when I get treated like crap, there is always a REASON, dammit, and I should be understanding. So I focus on the good, and pine for the good, and never once realize that there also was not so very good. I can't let go because I can't see all of the wounds. Or for some reason, if I do see them, the wounds are not dire, and therefore I should be strong enough to deal with them.

Strong, STRONG, STRONG...you should be strong.

It's becoming increasingly apparent that I am strong and tolerant for all of the wrong things. Yeah, we're quite stinkin' surprised about that.

Of course I was drunk, silly goose. D'ya think I'd do such a thing sober?


I had an epiphany last night...but I forgot, 'round about the time that I was walking purposefully through the neighborhood at 3 AM in nothing but my bathrobe. Oh, and clutching a nasty reminder of how easily dupped I am. Waking this morning served me with a sober epiphany, and this one is sticking with me. This reminder that I thought was so cheap and fake was actually quite authentic upon inspection in the light of day, which led me to quite a few conclusions:

A. I'm a big fat jerk, not once or twice but continually
2. I am so convinced that certain things are out to get me, to trip me up and make me fall. I can be so suspicious and judgemental. When truly, in the light of day, all of the shadows that distracted me were never really there at all. I was making them up, maybe to protect myself, maybe b/c I'm conditioned, doesn't really matter when you get right down to it, huh?
III. It's time for me to get over this stuff

Anger simmers on my surface like an oil stain on blacktop on a hot summer day.

If you can't see me, as large, loud and full of life and contradictions as I am, then you are blind to what is good and real and I am sorry for what you have missed.

SAN FRANCISCO...

I am so tired. My body is sore because I am trying to train it ( and my mind and my mouth, yeah good luck with that) to focus on something new. Having said that, I feel that I must communicate something to you, the angels walking earth that I surround myself with.

Matt, I love you. You are such an inspiration to me, in that a lot of our struggles are parallel. I recognize you as a compadre in the battle to really and truly find who you are and be happy with that, instead of letting the mundane, drone world guide you. You are such a thinking/feeling person, and that is rare to find in a guy. So loving and intuitive, and then out pops the boy in you, just to remind us all that you are richly human and loving every minute of it, even the crap parts.

Alicia, Alicia, Alicia. Man, do I miss you. And yet, I don't. Because I know that no matter what, no matter how the friendship stretches and flexes and wanes and swells, you will always be there, as will I. I hope you understand that you are the first true person that I've been able to say that about confidently. It actually led me to meeting all of these other wonderful people. I am so very very proud of you and what you are trying to achieve.

Ashley, you and Matt are my examples of true men in this world. I'm happy with knowing you because we can be not perfect together "ooouuuu, you really said that?" or "Ashley, how old is she, really?" It's so wonderful for me to be able to say what I want and be who I am as a woman and have a man that I respect love me because of it, not inspite of it. It's neat to love you because of it all too.

Amber Lynn, so strong, so vibrant, so willing to love. My peace. My "Amber is here, I am able to breath again." I don't know if you see your strength and your hope yet, but it just radiates from you. Your smile gathers all of the light around you, and anybody in close proximity must understand that even if you are smiling through tears your message is "A challenge? Give it to me, I want it." You know you can do anything, right?

Mom. Mother. Ma. Just the fact that you ARE my friend makes me blissfully happy. How lucky am I? What praise to the gods should I be singing that would justify such a blessing? Little spitfire that you ate, your warmth is so apparent that even strangers in line at the grocery store recognize it. And you are my one and only. Your grace and willing smile know no bounds and they are figures that my soul rests on when everything else is gone. Good Lord that makes life special.

Jolie, just thinking of you makes me smile. I have never seen a woman with such a capacity to draw the people that she wants to her, and care about each one individually and with much gusto. I am in awe of your ability to read people, as a matter of fact, I aspire to have a fraction of your intuition. You have helped me open myself, and while sometimes it makes me raw, I am happy to be free. I want to create a renneisance woman within myself and to give to the world, and it is humbling to know a soul who already is one.

Shawn, the instiller of patience. I don't think I naturally have any, but I've found a lot by watching you. And such a mixture of true perfect womanhood: intelligent and strong, fun and witty, mother and friend and lover and just a damn real person who is not afraid of being that way. The attention that I get from you is truly a gift to me, when those dark, cracking eyes focus on me I know that even if I don't want to come out, you want to see the true me and have no time for the one that messes around. It makes me comfortable being who I really am, knowing you who I admire wants to see me.

Sam-mantha. The world exists for the sweetness of fun, and you will always remind me of that. The "party planner" the "clown" the "yep, life's a bitch, let's go have a cocktail or otherwise entertain ourselves, shall we?" You think so much and feel so much that it's amazing you don't explode. Once you get your feet underneath you, man, watch out. My only hope is that you'll stop sometime for happiness, 'cause I think when you grow wings that's the only thing that WILL slow you down.

I love you I love you I love you all so much, it is my pride and blessing to know you and I just wanted you each to know that.

This one goes out to all you Monkeys out there.
And the next time I try to deny my instincts, you all have my full permission to smack the stupid out of me.

My finger to the world, ok not so much the world but men (Matt, this is the bitterness coming out in a healthy way, sans BB gun, aren't we glad) is going to be a resoundingly witty comentary on my state of "affairs" from beginning to present. Some titles I threw around today: "How to Treat People, No Really, You Need to Learn", "Trials and Tribualtions of a Drama Queen", "Comments on the Three R's: Restaraunts, Retail, and Relationships," or by far the most laughable favorite "You Guys Suck : Here's why." It'll be an article publshed in some dreadful women's magazine, and damn if I shouldn't send it to every last one of "them", just for old time's sake. My promise to myself is that I will NOT be bitter, because that is letting unworthy people influence my life and don't ya know that ain't gonna happen to me. But I've got to get it all out of my system somehow and might as well have some fun and profit from it while I'm at it. I've always thought I should have been paid for my time anyway (yes I realize what that sounds like) if I'd have charged a therapist's rates I would have been rid of A1A ages ago and halfway through grad school by now.

I've been writing really, so unfolded below are pieces from the mish-mosh.

1/18/05
...The miracle of youth, I tell you. I ACTUALLY believe that I can, and WILL, do whatever I want to. Personally, professionally... So far though, I haven't been able to figure out what's stopping me.

STUPID INVISIBLE WALLS

I'm a virgo. I like these notebook lines. Pages with no lines stress me right the hell out. Nice little blue guiderails for me to follow. At the same time, the very same time, I want to obliterate the sons of bitches.
Write
OUT
of
order
IN RED
syawedis *um* <---- backwards?

The problem is, I don't want different if someone, anyone else, has done different. Not *good enough* for me dammit, if it is not starkly original. In this world, filled with billions of people - real, not real, fun, lame, hurting, happy, forward thinking, archaic, ALL OF THEM...I defeat myself, because, (stomp feet here) "well I could write in a spiral too, but some FLAKE whose smoked too much weed in order to 'free the' frikkin' 'mind' has already done it, winning a published book and all the accolaids that come from telling to box to pack up and head on down the road." My screw you to the universe is to not EVEN TRY.

Ewww, control yourself, you praise fed little recognition monster. Nobody but you cares why or how but you anymore, why doncha get over it and bust the way you really want to bust? Too...polite? Too...afraid?

you want people to feel your color.
gotta let go of it first.

Hell, gotta come out of the grey first. Fins some black and white. Be ok with the red of putting your foot down and standing up to it all, the blue of each unexoected voice, purple doubt, fuschia love, the purity of living life without fear.
----------------------

1/30/05
(blue pen) Good-bye, love-house. Thank you for taking care of me - shelter, peaceful porch, warm solace and all. I will miss you as my first. Good-bye, sturdy house to my clumsy body.
-----------------------

2/19/05
*Suddenly*

I feel sure that most of the blood has beensucked out of my BRAIN and is pumping furiously towwards my HEART-

It's taking too much room, consuming all of my energy, making it hard to see anything
else and I want it to stop beating or go back to normal.
--------------------

2/27/05
I want to dance, but I can't quite give up the heels yet, in some circumstances. I want to love, but fuck you if you want to track my heart, my soul, my being. I want to rage, but smile and hug you. I want it all and I want nothing. It's the same, right?
-----------------------

3/1/05
I am paralized with fright. Absolutely immoble. I can't stop thinking I can't get away from it I just want my mind to stop working.

3/2/02
I cherish that cookie.
Savor every bite.
Because, it was earned by my persistence and desire to be accepted by people that I respect,
by being myself
Not a chamelion
or a muse
who caters to
other
people's
whims.

There is more, but my eyelids keep trying to steal kisses from each other so I must leave this for now. As was expected, to be continued.

Dammit, I still know, and isn't that just the thorn twisting in my side?

It's so ridiculously simple, all of this. It's all set lights and smoke, backdrops that are designed to induce the sigh of love and whispering winds of hope that fan that sigh into a fire that's so painfully hard to put out. No matter how short or long, no matter the disinterest and pride and blatant flaunting of oneself to drive the other mad...nothing matters when once you were allowed for a slip of time to see what you've always wanted to see. It is the reason for fools, violence, drunkeness and several other dramas that can be chalked up to breaking away and starting new, again. Some take it well, some will never ever learn, and still others will back away from it like it is a rabid thing with mossy fangs and punishing claws.

Is it so bad that I just want to HUG the rabid thing?

Because I know...
(and knowing is half the battle)

Oh come on, you can't say one without the other. It's just not right man. So even though I was trying to be serious, humor snuck in and stuck its tongue out at me again. I guess there are far worse ways to deal with major topics that make me squirm, ways such as:
drinking, eating, staying up too late, sleeping to long, procrastinating, drugs...
well, at least I don't do the drugs.

Here's the thing. I was starting to go on a flourishing diatribe depicting the paths that I am wandering around as we speak. The outline I had in my head was to lament my current career standing (or the fact that I don't have one and almost two months into being 25 am no where nearer to stumbling across one) and chide myself over the inaction. Then I was going to throw in something empowering yet witty to boost my failing temperament through another day of smiling at people that I don't like. Add a dash of "stop berating yourself for trying to make the right decisions and taking the time to do it" and I would have been mentally satiated knowing that the whole world understands that I don't want to remain a waitress in St. Augustine forever and I am perfectly willing to shout it from the rooftops, if I felt confident that I could do so without falling off a one story house and killing myself.
I started to, but I was contradicted. By me. A-GAIN. So I stopped. It seems that I have either killed off the brain cells that were making me over-analyze these things, or I really have just stopped caring. Or maybe I really do understand that my time will come. When I ponder being a go-getter, I take another sip of my vodka tonic and push through the crowd to stare at the beach and think "nah, the real world can wait." While I fail to believe I should just sit idly by on my ass doing nothing, I am renewing my thinking with the fact that I will be a grown up for the rest of my life and this world is too hard to live in without enjoying the major things that I know will sustain me:
Love, family, career, surroundings...
and I refuse to push myself to do anything but enjoy these things.

If you're worried, don't be.

I'm not. Just trust in me. I am learning to, and it's a fabulous thing.

HEY DUCKS!!
New mantra "be sweet, be kind, be patient, be strong. Again...be sweet, be kind..." God knows, I'm trying.
"What have people got against a chick being by herself?"

There would be no rainbows from the soul if there were no tears in the eyes...

This is the gist of a quote I saw on a wall in Savannah today. It sums up my short trip nicely, I think. Driving up, the passanger seat of the Camry was inhabited by one big, tense mass of contradictory thoughts and emotions. Talked myself out of most of that nicely. Had I stayed here I would have created a melodrama the likes of which would rival the best soap opera, and then some. Weird how stepping away from something allows for some eery clarity and eventually restores peace. Let's see if I can remember this lesson.

Well, I am just really happy.

But before I say anything...my heart goes out to the victims and families who are suffering in Haiti right now. I can't even begin to fathom the things that these people are going through now. I am so sorry but so very thankful.

Now back to happy. Since I have written last, I celebrated my birthday in Miami, where I got to hang out in the Dj booth with John Digweed and watch the sun rise on my 25th, not to mention spend time with one of my favorites. I have trips planned to Costa Rica with the other favorites (AKA monkeys) and Australia if I can swing it, and I am finally getting to go to New York. Fabulous. Shortly I will start studying to take the GRE so I can start on the good ole career track. We made it through the first batch of hurricanes, thanks be, and hopefully we will make it through Jeanne (which by the way is named after my sassy Grandmother, go freakin' figure. And, drumroll, please. I have a boyfriend. Hope you didn't hurt yourself falling out of your chair in shock. Lord knows I'm still reeling from the surprise. I am very gun-shy right now, but I hope I can pull this off without totally freaking out. We'll see.

So my attetion is waning for the moment, hope to write less superficial stuff soon.

WELL, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, WAS I THAT BIG BEFORE?

Hey! Now you can post comments! So do it! Uh, I mean, em, please enlighten me with your most valued opinion. Ah-thank you.

Well, through all of the love-life blundering that typically happens on any given day, at least I can say I am starting to get more intuitive about the shenanigans. Probably I'm just learning to pay better attention to all of the BLARINGLY OBVIOUS signals. That might be it.

WARNING. Political discussion to follow.

So I have this to say about politics. Figure that mess out for yourself. (That was the essence of what I had to say. Figured I'd plant the seed before I tried to be eloquent.) But please, please, por favor, don't decide the future of our country by selecting the candidate's name that you see the most on the side of the road. In any election, from school board member to Commander in Chief. "Whichever devil you choose, you will look him in the face first." This quote from Dangerous Beauty may not be referring to the same situation, but I think it is a stance that we as a society should take, even though we often fail to. In this time when it can truly be the lesser of two evils, be aware of what you are signing your soul away to achieve. Take a look at the issues and the facts, and seal your heart from being affected by emotionally charged (if not factually based) speeches and campaign press releases. And if you are an undeniable moron, ask someone whom you respect to tell you who to vote for, 'cause even you need to try and make a difference.

Really, it's the way that you approach things.

For all of the times that I wanted to scream when I heard "it's not WHAT you say, Kelly, it's HOW you say it" I realize more and more everyday, it's damn true.

Learn about tact, and then learn how to use it.  I have no filter, so I empathize.  I talk to much, about too much, so I understand it's hard to hold back sometimes.  Especially when I think that I am always right.  Indignant is the term that comes to mind as of late, and I can't quite figure out what there is to be indignant about.  I'll be stepping off of my soap box now.  Thanks for reading.

PLAN:

1.  GRE (shudder)
2.  Resume (blech)
3.  Fancy suit as a reward for the above, b/c isn't it obvious by now that I operate on a reward system?
4.  Networking (did my anti-corperate, no-no-yuppy rear-end just say that?)
5.  Volunteering

AAAANNNDDDD....go!

Oh, and, uh, just found out that Digweed is going to be in Miami at Crobar the day before my birthday (which would be a monday night).  I think that it would be quite awesome to:

a. see Digweed!
b. Go to Miami
3. Dance my butt off at Crobar and watch the sun come up on my Birthday...yeah baby.

Uh-oh.  The wheels are definitely turning!

      

I think I am going to tattoo "mistaken intention" on my forehead..."What?  Why are you looking at me like...wait, no!  That's not what I meant, that's not what I was going to do... dammit, why...oh, for cripes sake, I give up!"
 
Why can't I just BE, and you GET IT?
 
For those of you that miss the Monkeys, the recent quotes on the board include:
 
Kelly: Can't you feel your heart beating?
Alicia: No, not under this padded bra.
 
Alicia:  Who are those guys hanging out on the stage behind them?
Kelly:  It's their posse.
Alicia:  Oohhhh!
  

 

Pursue Happiness inscribed over my battered knuckles.
Poor car.
 
Even if it is silent, my prayer is always the same.
 
Be safe.  Be strong.  Know that even with all of the disaster around you, the confusion and the opposite ends of honor, no matter the politics or varied opinions, there is always a heart open to you.  I love you for everything that you do for us.  Thank you for your life and your courage.  For the past, the present and the future, you are all my heroes.

Funny.  The other day, I called a good friend of mine a boy, and he got offended.  "Don't call me that.  I know that's an insult coming from you."  Apparently I have been very vocal about my views of the difference between men and boy.  Guess I'd better follow up the opinion with the behavior now, huh?

Ok, so here's the thing. My computer has some mysterious virus thingy going on. I can't even turn the abominable thing on now. So I am quite near twitching from not posting - still writing, but this whole online thing is strangely addicting. Nothing much eventful to lament about, really. Hopefully the bane of my existence will be working by the time something interesting happens.

NO REALLY.

IS THIS THING ON!?!?!

The moon is calling me...It's making me lose my concept of time, it's altering my perception of reality, it's drawing the drama to care from this body as its last breath. No worries. This is just the cocoon. The vibrant, strong creature my soul will become is still being nurtured inside. The pulse of the moon may just breath life yet. I am desperately fighting the urge to ignore it. The music and the words are holding me to it. One day. One day there will be so much more. It'll hurt, there will be pain and rage and distrust and failure and all of those other nasty words and thoughts and sentiments. But there will always be love. And I will pick up new words along the way to induct into my vocabulary - trust, support, commitment, honor, sucess, fufillment. Even to try will be enough.

Sober for 17 days, here's where I am on THAT totem pole:

* People in bars are ten TIMES more annoying when you are the ONLY one not drinking. Being intoxicated makes that a whole hell of a lot easier to deal with.
* I'm grouchier than I've ever been before.
* I've noticed when the urge strikes me the hardest, and this awareness reminds me of why I quit to begin with: When I am angry, threatened, or stressed, I crave alcohol.
* It IS hard to not drink when you work at a restaurant and go to bars, but not impossible. The major thing that strikes me when I'm out is, "God, why am I here again? To be social? With WHAT?"

Is it because you know that I want to grab you up and shake the teeth out of your head? Is this what causes you to think the way that you do? Or are you just so encapsulated in your own mind space that you don't realize what you passed up years ago?

JUST ONE DAY IN ALL OF THEIR HEADS, THAT WOULD PUT MY MIND AT EASE. GUESS I'M JUST GONNA HAVE TO RELY ON SWEET, SLOW TIME, EH?

"I know, I know. Action. Not words."

I feel like the worst comedian in the world, playing to a non-existent audience, tapping the mike, screaming "IS THIS THING ON?!?!?!"

There must be something that allows for a mess up. A do-over. Stepping stone. I don't know, a freaking experiment that's not too caustic or hurtful. Can't I have a get out of jail free card? As much as I scribble, as much as the steam escapes through my ears...all that thinking just leads to so many concentric circles. Good, back to chasing my tail again. Glad for that!

Whatever is silenced will clamor to be heard, though silently.
-Margret Atwood

No, the tears are not rife
with any particular emotion.
Slow and circumspect,
hating disappointment
as the only measure
that still trickles pain,
the only one
that finely drips through
the mesh of control
to mingle with my blood.

This fabulous inertia
that strikes my limbs
but won't even put pause on my brain
makes my eyes vibrant
but my actions dim.
Being this body
is hurting my soul
and floating
is causing more scrapes and bruises
than the Path ever would.

Musically, poetically I'll watch you
as I cling to the notes
and words
to save me from drawing you near.
The sting from my palm
still open on your face,
you will walk away.
I will be watching patiently
for the sight of your back -
breathing easily because I won, again.


Can you hear me clamoring, finally?

BUY!! SELL!! TRADE!!

No, this is not a used car dealership ad, this is how I feel about my life right now:

"Stuck in a rut with nothing to entertain you? Go buy something you don't need for that five minute of translucent joy!"
Passe, at best.

"Want to cleanse your spirit because you are brutally hard on yourself and feel that you tend towards no good? Go through the house like a tornado and bag up 2/3 of your stuff to give away - you're helping other people right?"
Trite. That about sums it up.

"Need some affection? Want to connect with someone? To be special? Of the many things in your head you have to barter, why not pick the one that you are the best with? 'Cause that makes sense."
Even when you know better, huh?

Clearly when I said that I am ridiculously inept at social multi-tasking, the powers that be took that to heart and decided to really try my malfunction. My inclination would be to bitch, 'cause well, that's what I do. But seeing as I am famously Happy, *uh, Content, or maybe...Satisfied, yeah that's it, Satisfied* with my "social calendar" as it is, I think I might try keeping my mouth shut. Now, to all of you Nay Sayers out there, every last one of you - to you I say "remember that I will ALWAYS surprise you." So there, and a nanny nanny boo boo, too, just for good measure. How's that for being a grown up?

Monkey, um, really, what is this? "Goddess of the Fabrics of Time."

Please to share, thanks.

ooooh...I want that! Why not me?

Ummmm...

Love...
and why stare?
Those next needs
Boil beneath a moon gown
Rusting
Aching
Blood
In a thousand languages.

Yeah.

I should be famous for the odd sunburns that I get...sheesh.
It doesn't matter how much they protest, kids will always like water in the end.
I am HORRIBLE with social multi-tasking.
How long before I run away in a fright, thinking, "whew, that was close!"

I wore my new shoes last night! (Robbie, if you are reading this, I didn't fall nor were they uncomfortable.) Apparently, this is all I've got right now, when really I am jam-packed with issues...maybe I'm scared to take a closer look.

MY TIES ARE GONE...

...and once again I wonder where that up-in-the-air feeling will get me.

Also, I was wrong, even when I knew that I was right.

Yeah, chew on that one for a minute. I sure have.

I am SOOO sorry for trying to take your hat...
Bet you can't wait to tell your buddy about that one, can ya?
I have an itch and am trying reeaaalll hard not to scratch it. Probably I'm gonna lose this battle. But not the war. Never the war.

I know why I feel this way, but even so...am I just supposed to ignore certain feelings and emotions, pretend that I am really not feeling anything for a week or so, and then it's all better, back to normal? No. It's like being in a second skin. Becoming another part of myself that has heighten senses, thoughts and emotions. And no, I am not talking back to the voices, yet. They are all still external and throwing mad bullshit my way, whether I ask for it or not, but I have yet to lash out with real fervor. Only a matter of time, really, but such is me, and how I deal with life.

My goal, for the day, at least:
Settle down enough to enjoy the rest of my time here, so that I can remember St. Augustine fondly, and maybe for once in my life, miss a place. (Don't worry, San Fran, I'm coming back for you). Right, we'll see how that goes.

Siggghhh...
THE UNREST OF THE MONKEYS

Do you know that I missed St. Augustine, and talked about it positively while I was gone? Do you know that I am fairly certain now that I have lost my mind? Dear God, don't tell anyone.

I came home today to a cat who climbed me like a tree, *awwww*, 'cause she missed me, so that was nice. I stood in the doorway, happy to be home, ready to find some trouble to get into, and I was sad. My monkey was not here to share with. Mia is not really into story time. No one to show my funky shoes, no one to tell that there were fifty thousand fine guys to look at in the City that has lost their r's, not to mention the disquiet I have now that I discovered Boston wasn't what I wanted it to be...Who really cares, besides the #1 monkey and my parents? In wallowing in my own self-pity, I got to thinking, "God, if it's this bad for us, how much does it SUCK for her?" Here I am with Ashley and Matt within reach, my friends, my job, my drama. There she is, surrounded by beauty but no doubt one sad little monkey, to be away from everything like she is. So Alicia, I hope that you are well. I know that your are lonely, but I hope that you can take everything that you can from this situation. Not just being immersed in Spanish, but also how your heart feels now. How to deal with that. How to make something better when you really see nothing good in it. I love you, and miss you.

Now for the other Monkey. I hope that you are doing better than that last post. If you are, *whew* that was a close one. If not, think to a place where you are always appreciated and loved. You know where. Now nod and smile as you are thinking "yeah freakin' great. My car's a mess and people at work are butts, and Kelly's waxing all poetic and sappy on me." So as not to create that illusion, I will say, I (and hopefully Ashley) will be down there on Fri., and there will be drinking and presents and drinking, none of which you will have to pay for. It is your Birthday so you are the Birthday...uh...King!...Man!...Monkey! So suck it up, soldier! (I've been in the car for the past three days, cut me a break).

Not a word was written on this trip. Trepidation to try plagues me, once again. Am I doing the right thing?

I want to write about my day in Boston yesterday, but I can't spell some of the things that I would write about, so it'll have to wait until later.

For now, the recent goings-on in my addled brain:

Can't you take I-95 all the way down?
Could I deal with the abruptness of this city?
I promised myself not to live in fear, and I want to call, I really do, but the phone repels me like so much venom...this might be a longer process than I thought.
We'll see if it can be handled accordingly...

I dunno,Kel. You might have to stop thinking and just BE...

This is now.

I can't even muster up the tears anymore, God dammit. It's so typical, so expected, that it just becomes like breathing...this accepting of the terms and conditions. I knew it was coming, I could feel it in my blood, I looked at you and understood what you were. It was so subconscious and base that I didn't realize the true nature of the beast, probably didn't care to, but none the less, it surfaced from inside to grab air and make itself known. It used to hurt so bad...making me lose the air in my body, flushing my face, metally staggering my abilities until I was giddy and unbalanced. Used to. Now I just blink, exhale, make another tick mark, and walk away.

Vanity won, and was wrong.

Again.

I wrote this when I was around 15 or 16...all I have to say is good luck to all of y'all.

Wishful Thinking

Your face,
an open book.
Your lines,
Like lookin' through
a window into your mind.
Your promise more fragile
than a young girl's heart.
Your lies,
as predictable as an over-watched movie.
Your mouth -
Fresh
yet surprisingly sweet...
when it suits you.
A disturbed purpose
and a perfectly
warped meaning,
but a completely
Empty
Intention.


That was then. I'll tell ya about now when I have a coupla hours under my sleep belt.

Giving up all expectations...

As soon as I start typing, she will come. Why wait?

As soon as I make myself unavailable, they will beg.

What's taking so long?

Will Vanity win?

Why can't I finish ANYTHING?
I'm working on going with the flow here, truly.

I look around, and think strong thoughts. I move throughout, and am always impressed with the strength of my body. I sit down and feel, and that is where I find the weakness.

Such complex creatures we all are, to have such base, primitive emotions and goals. As high as we build those castles in the sand, the basement of the fortress is where all things that drive us are housed.

I don't know what's different, but I like it. It may be difficult, but it's stimulating, which I don't mind. Yeah, it's wicked to be confused during a vast portion of my life. Even more insane to be looking at something that I want right now, and not have it. But the real kicker? Being alright with that. Not allowing such events to shade my every mood. Finally being able to say and mean"If it's meant to be it will be."

So, soon I'll move on to being not so egocentric, thanks, princess.

Really, could the roller coaster mood swing bit move on to somebody else now? I'm kinda over it.

"Umm, this is not Burger King, have it your way, mmmkay?"
"Hi, my name is Sam, and I'll be taking care of you tonight. This is my friend George, say hi George!"
"And the ants, are in my shoes, AND THEY ARE BITING ME!!"

It is almost comical...I said almost. To feel like the lowest form of crap (what would that be, exactly?) one minute, and the next laughing, 'cause the fit that ya just threw was rather funny, then bummed out, because those poor horses do nothing all day but clop around in circles on the burnt asphalt, then annoyed about the dink of a tourist who insists on getting in the way, not on purpose but just by being there, "don't these people pay attention to their freakin' surroundings?" Hormones be damned, this is kinda fun! Who needs drugs!

And by the way, I should have to hand over my phone after one drink. The drunk dialing is getting waaay outta hand. Do you see? Do you see why I want to stop, period?

"Kelly. Your hommus is gonna be a while...we, uh, we lost the veg. for that."
"You lost the...what, did they sprout legs and walk out?"

I'm too tired to pretend, even.

The difference should pull me out of this sleepy little fog. But the sleep is like a drug…canceling my thoughts, numbing the incumbent and impending feelings. It’s hard to be a Guest House, as much as I believe it should be so. It’s hard to welcome them all, because even happiness can make someone wary. Having said that, I am enjoying these visitors. They’re helping me clean house.

How about a sharpy, a rabies tag, and a flashlight to constitute the entertainment divine...

what?

Sorry just trying to get the rusty fingers moving. More? Sure.

The sign on my desk is of Happy Bunny saying, "whatever, you moron." This is the mantra that I repeat in my head at work. Customers, co-workers, whoever, it's "Whatever you moron" until I can breath a clean, non-alcohol induced sigh at the end of the day. Until I can say to myself, "You have money in your pocket, you didn't let loose of your mouth, and you managed to keep from flinging dinner plates at the expo's head...ya done good."

These are things that I don't want to be proud of myself for.

If I have to bite my tongue, I would rather it be b/c I don't want to be overly-excited over a kid who is making great progress. If I have to be frustrated, I want the frustration to be a used emotion, a means to an end, instead of some fury that I have to write away or run off so that I can start fresh the next day. I want to be proud of myself for doing something for myself and others, not for constantly trying to keep my attitude in check.

The weekly "2nd & 3rd Mama therapy sessions" have told me simultaneously to "figure out how to be your kid again" and "stop lurking and just GO." What's funny is, for once in my life, even through the puzzling haze of indecision, I understand what my little universe is up to. When all is right, I will know. It never pays for me to second guess. I am trying to make it so that I won't do that. At least not nearly as much as I have in the past.

I WARNED YOU

I have something to say about all of this plastic surgery/alter my looks b/c I don't fit into that tight little barbie doll mold/I wanna look like everybody else madness that has been spreading like wildfire for the past couple of years. Where are the mothers? The families? The freakin' big brothers of America? The preachers and the Rabbis and the shaman? "Hello, God? *tap, tap* is this thing on? The Peace Corps, for cripes sake. 'Cause it's gonna take a legion of Peace to tame this mangled beast. Where are these people who take the little girls to the side and say "Kiddo. Make your OWN mold. Be the best YOU can be, not the best Mr.-Plastic-Surgeon-paying-for-my-vacation-with-your-insecurities can make you." Don't get me wrong. I am not going all women's lib on you people. I have the push-up bras and the bikini waxes. I get the pedicures and own way to many girlie products (I have like four different kinds of shampoo, see?)

I DO want you.
Make you mine and be yours? No. Just in as much as I want to know you, hear you're thoughts, sift through you dreams.
I AM interested in the person you are...you appeal to me physically and mentally, which is no small feat.
I KNOW that I am a quality person and worthy of your attention.
I'm TIREDof using you as a convenience and being one in return.
I DO run away.
I DON'T know how to handle this.
I AM fighting serious emotions, making me scared, confused, unsure, and silent.
I DON'T want this to affect me anymore. I want it to go away, make me stop the occasional pondering and flashes of what - ifs. Normalcy for once, just once, please.
AND fuck you for not trying or getting it. Yes, an irrational "fuck you" for not putting yourself out there when I won't either, for not understanding that it's all a facade, and for not feeling my cry when I am right beside you. STOP. Dammit. Stop showing yourself to be someone that I find interesting. GO AWAY or recognize me for who I am.

Christ, this is why I wish I was a boy.

Laughing on the inside is just not enough anymore.

What's funny is, the self-righteous thing is fueled by not being able to go about things on your own. As long as you have some one to stand behind you and gossip to when you get all high and mighty, you're golden. If you don't then who is going to help you stand up for what they told you was right? I mean, if you think about it.

A thought that I have to remind myself of again...you get what you ask for. So stop being all surprised.

I thought I put this up here earlier, but I'm fairly certain I did not...

What dreams may come might also be brutally honest…and there’s the rub.

Maybe it’s that I’m an only child. Maybe it’s that I have this grand delusion of what certain things should be like. Quite possibly I overreact, which is why I often apply the glue of control liberally to my lips. Certainly I expect too much, think too much, operate singularly instead of in plurals…right? I mean, to be disappointed with certain aspects of friendship is irrational, isn’t it. To be loved…but to love is the thing, really. Do I cast myself as the outsider? Is it because I am just trying too damn hard? Does it seem like I don’t need you? Because I do.

Somebody, help me out here.

And thoughts to come on that show on MTV - I want a famous face...or whatever in the Hell it is...

Where was Mario?
Where were you?
You'll have to forgive him...he has no soul.
"Revolutions. Better living through chemistry. We must resolve to evolve. perception is your weapon."

If I turn away from you...stop trying to dance with me. I like to dance...you gyrating and sweating all over me is really not conducive to the environment I am creating in my mind. It's all good - don't try the offended thing. I'm just a girl, on the dance floor. You can come, but by invitation only.

Gold, vodka, beer, and turkeys...will there ever be a day when I know better?

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

That's me shrieking, by the way.

Why, you ask?

Good question, and as soon as my self tells me, I'll let you know.

Left Without Preface

What do I say to you?
You bring me my self-tortured soul
Wrapped up in a Tiffany’s box
With a white satin sheet that
Covers your navy side.
But not mine.
Huh.

What can I be to you?
When you come twice
To such a coveted conclusion
And I don’t even come close…
Beginning to feel like
This is chasing pixies in the mist,
But what, for all we care, right?

Really, what more can I ask?
This is a Frankenstein
That I have created
And nurtured
To the point of marveling
With dismay
At the piteous monster that it is still becoming.

Hate you?
No.
Want you?
Not really.
Picturing those others
When you are believed to be in my head?
Undoubtedly.

Is there something off beam
With “you’ll do for now?”
Because the white horse has arrived sans rider
Only to tell me that the prince will be late…
Ultimately it will be him and not you,
But until then let’s say you
Get back on that sway-backed nag and take his place

Heartfelt letters screaming with confusion
Monkeys could run this place better
If there was a solitaire competition, I would so win it...that's going on the quote board, isn' it?

I got all jumpy today - might have been the three cups of coffee that I INHALED...but who knows? I had an extreme emotions day today too...Hyper, annoyed, manic, frustrated, goofy with a touch of delerious, indignant, purposeful - all wrapped up into six hours that earned me 20 bones. Gotta love the service industry. OR not. It was actually a fun day I spent trying to entertain myself and others. To bad they were all in crap moods. And I refuse to dwell on the pit of swine that I lovingly call work, so...

Greer, you are in my prayers for a positive outlook and fast recovery.
Randy and Reet, I hope you find Jackie Brown. She's such a cool cat. My thoughts are with you.

I miss you incredibly. It arrives in waves, rising and falling with my mood or how much I am affected by the idiots around me. I dreamt about you - you were happy and strong, and I was glad that you were there.

This was last night. A few drinks, a ride home from the new impossible, and no possibles on the horizon, and this is where my mentality ended up. Moving right along.

* The following is a note to a friend whose blog I have been reading (not sure if she knows it or not.) Anywho, I tried to post a comment on her blog and, wonder of all wonders, damn thing was too long. So I'm putting it up here. I'm sure some will find this ironic, 'cause really it's what many of you people tell me! *

Sweetie! The fact that you are so hard on yourself is a good and a bad thing! Good in that you realize the personal obstacles you face, but bad in that you are beating the crap outta yourself. Stop it! You are learning life as it rides through everyday ups and downs - that's ok! Figure out what you want, don't want, need, don't need, what works, doesn't work, then understand that you will take one step forward and 5 million back before you get it right sometimes. I don't know what your state of mind is today - but you are sweet, intelligent, beautiful and funny, and you deserve to care for yourself as much as we do! If you ever want to chat, get my email from my monkey, 'k? Sorry for the novella.
P.S. Don't hate me for being all motivational speaker-esque.

Feeling a little deflated. A little like the excited balloon has been relieved of all of its air. Only there was absolutely no reason for the excited balloon to be inflated in the first place. I am definitely fighting the doldrums.

Thought of the day: You have trashy novels, and you have thought-searing literature. Then there's threads and kicks that will fall apart in three days because they are cheap, or the quality clothing that lasts forever. Moving on to slack-ass messengers of laziness, and those that will forever come behind them and carry their iron weight.

Ok now, discuss..

Catch Phrase is a fun game...who knew?
What a smart ten year old!
And guess what? MY FOOT STILL HURTS!

Ahem. I'm feeling very smart right now, nevermind that Jon (thanks, man!) practically drew me a picture to show me how to put my e-mail up (shhhh! Don't tell! I'm pretending to be computer savvy!) And there it is -------> Over there somewheres. So, let the feedback begin! G' night!

"You are not excused from social hour..."

I love you guys!

Oh, and I changed the blog a little. Trying to put my e-mail up there somewhere...a little help?

If I was you, I would hate being like everyone else. Ew.

Late night conversations with another Impossible.
I can't believe I really did that.
Hey, I ran nine miles, busta! Now my foot hurts.
Are ALL people really as awful as they seem?

Just catching y'all up on the week.

*********************

So a few people other than family have been here now *bites inner lip in trepidation* It appears to be all of the good that it can be, and I am glad for the feedback. Thing about it is, (something that I have to work on) is that I come here to vent. Rant. Be vexed. Fuss. Contemplate. Mull over. Ya get the idea. I don't come here when I am in all kinds of a great mood. And I'm thinking that I should. Writing has always been my therapy. It is the tool that I use to plaster things back together inside my head. I'm thinking if I start recognizing the lighter side of me, I can lay off on the melancholy a little bit. Not too much now, I'm not trying to scare myself or anything...I feel that I am being redundant at the moment, and this motivates me to get to the point. From now on, in addition to (b/c I think the manner in which I transcribe my stuff is what makes me unique) the usual "hey world, go find a poker game and leave me alone" attitude, I'm gonna try to start relating some of the funny/bizarre/interesting/breathtaking/great cool wonderful things that happen to me.

And my foot STILL hurts.

I am a lover of fabulous conversations. Ones where neither party is complaining or smack talking or worrying or telling of a recent event, but where a higher level is achieved. Philosophical, if you will. Theoretical, too. Maybe a little bit with the opinions and ideas that are so unique to an individual. Deep breath, and...too the point, Kelly! I had one of those Sat. night. A good old conversation about God that actually made me think.

My attention is evading my control, so I'll be back to this later...oh boy.

The sheer distinction alone
making you stand out
has become the ability
to notice me -
if I smile
you see
that I inhabit the same space.
if you are allowed
an unfiltered angle of my eyes
you might understand
that I am
scared
not mean
uncertain
not aloof
it all comes down
to the fated stars aligning
a siberiean window of being
coughing at the right time
or simply whether or not
I choose to lift my face to meet you

So...Good-bye and stuff. You know, don't you? I mean, don't call me or anything, 'cause then I won't be saying no, and we all know I need to.

"I'll bide my time/ until I find /that you're listening..."

And another thing, while we're at letting go and moving on - stop looking down your nose at me. Assuming the air of "better" b/c you think you have it more together than I do. "I don't know, but whatever...*knowing, mature chuckle*

Just wait. When I do come into myself, there will be no stopping me or questioning my motives. It will be so blatant and in your face, none of y'all will know what hit you.

"Fighting the battle of who could care less..."

From some song that I heard on O-rock...fitting, isn't it?

So I am fed up. Not like, "Kelly's pitching a fit dear God everybody run" fed up, but fed up in the sense that I am over listening to myself speak. Yeah, I know I'm trying to work everything out. Yeah I know that you can talk to your friends (the true ones) until you are blue in the face if you really need to, and they will listen and try to help or just listen and try not to scream "shut up already with this woman of the world nonsense! Humble yourself and get a man, a job a HOBBY, something!!" I KNOW how to fix most of what ales me, and have an inkingly of how to deal with the stuff that I don't know how to fix entirely. I appear to be in what they call at work the "land manatee" stage, where I'm slow moving, cumbersome, and basically taking up space with the sheer weight of all that stomps around my head...

Off to work, to be continued later...

"Because then you get leftovers. Shrimp and lobster are never leftover. Meatloaf is. Do you like meatloaf?"

Could it be any simpler?
The universe is waiting on me...
but do I have to?

Oh. Good. Lord.
I am le tired.

Trying in vain to keep myself awake for a coupla more hours...so forgive if this gets bramble-y. It just goes to show you that sometimes fun comes with a price tag. No sleep. Drama. Mishaps. Delerium. Tables at 4:10, those bastards.

Maaaan, I can't fight it anymore. I'm going to bed, I don't care if it is 6:30 in the evening.

You kissed me...at the bar...?
And you, suck it up, mister.
Was that really Michael Jordan?
Mack is the name, number stealing is the game...
hanging out with the most popular man in St. Augustine.

I will settle here, on my perch, and look at you down the bridge of my beak. Thus has been the weekend. My thoughts volley between: him, him, him, or HIM, San Francisco or oh my God do I have to live in Florida anymore, should I go out or take the rest that my body truly needs, caring or really not...at all, ever...

One day someone will look at me and say, "Kelly. I know." Oh how the breath will rush out of me then.

HEY, LIFE!?! Will you please stop throwing these loops at me? Thanks. Really appreciate your cooperation on that.

And when I say loops, I do mean of the fruity variety..."huh. Did that just happen? Wow." Which is why "wow" has become the new nickname of choice...how are you, Monkey? You know what I'm screamin' don't cha? Just when you think you've found your path, some powder-incensed angel with plastic wings and a crooked halo shows you how many more whacked out curves there are going to be along the way.

Even those that understand me don't get it.

Something weird is going on.

The cat seeing invisible,
tremors calling at all hours looking to be nuzzled,
the snow in the rain with a faint meow.

Oh, what you must think of me.

Who ARE you, little man? You sprang forth into my life from a litany of non-existence, recognition taking shape in a pink house where you barely registered me, but in my reverence, I absorbed every detail of you.

A conquest of sorts, I was not good enough, type enough, tan enough...one of the enough's that I will never measure up to and don't really care to. For you to look upon me and try, no matter how meager and fickle the effort, was a triumph within itself. You will never know it, and I will forever fall short of understanding it, this need, but there it sits on a ottaman in my brain, because it is relaxed now. It has BECOME.

Pride, in being nothing to someone.

For a while I tried to take it back. Then change it. Make the nothing into some semblance of feeling. Now I realize that effort in this manner is futile, and I am more saddened by the apathy with which I regard the situation than the emptyness it is in my heart. I can feel without loving, is what I have learned. Something passionate can be mechanical and predictable and I think I might die before I settle for that in my life. Who knows, maybe I will.

The end of the world as we know it in 20 years?
Can I get an apartment please?...
or just a path in this world to follow...with stops along the way to love, family, fulfillment...are you out there still, or have you wandered away too?

These are the things that I worry about. I know that people have been predicting the end of the world ever since the world was created...but, you see, I have soooo much to do before this deterioration and ultimate demise. Have you ever read "Alas, Babylon"? The only book I have ever regretted reading (that and Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man...shudder...fade into Joe Babe's voice..."compare and contrast, com-PARE and CON-trast...fools!" Sorry, I'm back. Revisited AP English there for a moment.) Anyway, that book scared some of the sense out of me (stop wondering what happened to the rest of it.) It was my first revelation of the fact that the world that we live in is indeed not permanent and we're (crazy humans) not doing much to keep from screwin' it up. God, I could go on about this forever, so I won't. Point being, I still have to do some meaningful things, meet him (man of my dreams) and them (the kids that I will someday torture), and write a book of poems, and stuff (I'm an adult, cross my heart.) But this freaking voice in the back of my head keep droning "yeah, like global warming or nuclear warfare is gonna hold off for you." Ok, Pandora's Box. Back to the pit of my stomach from whence you came...

I hate online apartment search engines...sure they have technical names but I'm not sure that I care. They trip me out a little. I find them quite depressing. 'Cause, look-it. You put in your price range and all, and the computer screen practically laughs at you as it spits back "no results found in your price range, sucka!" Frustrating point numero uno. Numero dos, I haven't a clue in the universe where any of these places are. Crack town? Snob Hill? Murder central? I dunno, but the world's supposed to fall at my feet, remember, so please to find something reasonable, safe, roomie enough with a bay window and some good, light...thanks so much. *I'm waving at you from my parallel universe.* Mucho frustrating point numero tres, how in the hell will I go about looking at these places? How am I gonna find the hidden fees? Are my neighbors going to be morons who vacuum at 2 am? How the HELL am I going to be by myself in such a big place?

School or work?
Residency?
Taxes?
Unexpected expenses?
Car?
Coming home?


AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Talking myself down and reminding myself to breath, I will be taking my worrisome self off to bed now, where I will undoubtedly enact several more bizarre dreams in my head. And to you I say, Good Night.

Making the actual decisions is not the hard part. Figuring out which decisions to make is the clincher.