Cue hysterical laughter.
Oh, I so want to 'out' you, but I'll give you this one as a 'freebie'. Thanks for the unintentional giggle fest.
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Thursday, September 10, 2009
One Boy, One Towel
One boy... with a love of talc. One towel.
Cue hysterical laughter.
Oh, I so want to 'out' you, but I'll give you this one as a 'freebie'. Thanks for the unintentional giggle fest.
Cue hysterical laughter.
Oh, I so want to 'out' you, but I'll give you this one as a 'freebie'. Thanks for the unintentional giggle fest.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Lizard the Beautiful
She understands fashion.
She has the 'snark'.
She's brilliant and talented... Even if her cohorts don't appreciate her sense.
She's grounded and wise... With a great dose of heart.
She's been with me for decades, despite all changes in our lives.
She makes me laugh, she makes me think... She's strong and yet human, a real work of art.
She speaks her mind, but never spews hate.
She lives with a balance of sarcasm and truth... I've seen her like marble; I've seen her concerned.
She relates life case by case; commentary is just that. She's wise and observant: no two lives are the same.
I'm proud to call her 'friend'. I'm honored to let her in.
In the back of a church, I said "I love you" to a young woman in a white dress... I meant it.
This is friendship. This is true.
May we live another fifty years to see it through.
Thank you.
[Thank you for taking my late night call. Thank you for making me laugh. Thank you for listening in this difficult time.]
Saturday, October 4, 2008
DaFoWo Show, Yo!
This dry, witty, and well-scripted weekly serial out of Dallas-Ft. Worth, TX, is always a giggle. It's a local news review and social commentary, but that doesn't make the humor any less accessible to people across the country. If you let the player run for a bit, older episodes will continue playing.
Normally, I use nicknames for Pak members, but John was born to be a star! When we were children, he was always the sweetest kid. As an adult, John is exceedingly clever and his intellect surfaces in razor-sharp wit tempered by kindness and good manners...
Just plain adorable all around. Where is Hollywood with the big contracts?! Move it or lose it, people!
Normally, I use nicknames for Pak members, but John was born to be a star! When we were children, he was always the sweetest kid. As an adult, John is exceedingly clever and his intellect surfaces in razor-sharp wit tempered by kindness and good manners...
Just plain adorable all around. Where is Hollywood with the big contracts?! Move it or lose it, people!
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Thank You For Bein' a Friend
Puppy,
How do I adore thee?
Let me count the ways:
You never perceived a difference,
A separation between 'you' and 'me';
You just kept on 'til I answered the call.
You never gave up on me.
You pushed when I pushed back,
Gave me the necessary 'reality attack'
When you pissed me off, you kept me afloat;
Practical and fair, you were there.
How you knew what I needed...
Perhaps it was just your way:
Being real fixed me today.
I never would have pressed on
If you hadn't pushed me up.
You are a good friend and an example
Of what 'support' truly means;
It's the little things which make
More than a simple human being.
Thank you, Puppy. You are one in a million.
How do I adore thee?
Let me count the ways:
You never perceived a difference,
A separation between 'you' and 'me';
You just kept on 'til I answered the call.
You never gave up on me.
You pushed when I pushed back,
Gave me the necessary 'reality attack'
When you pissed me off, you kept me afloat;
Practical and fair, you were there.
How you knew what I needed...
Perhaps it was just your way:
Being real fixed me today.
I never would have pressed on
If you hadn't pushed me up.
You are a good friend and an example
Of what 'support' truly means;
It's the little things which make
More than a simple human being.
Thank you, Puppy. You are one in a million.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Desert Adventures
Meeeeeeeeeee!
Before you question my sanity, allow me to elucidate...
In early August, I joined a group of lovely ladies for a Bachellorette Weekend in Sin City... Although there wasn't much sinning, just sunning. And a lot of cocktails.
NO! Not THAT kind of cock tale! (good lord)
We all stayed at The Palazzo, sister hotel to The Venetian, and were delightfully surprised at the spaciousness and numerous flat screen TVs, but, due to the airlock death grip of their ventilation system, could barely get into the room.
My childhood friend Lizard - an ex-ballerina with fabulous taste in shoes - was almost wrenched out of her stilettos, putting her entire body weight into the door. Seriously, it was like watching a fashion model try to open a 10,000-pound Fort Knox vault. At night, we'd be awakened by a banshee's howling screech, only to realize it was just suction created by another guest opening their door across the hall.
The room was tastefully decorated in soft shades of green... Except for the couch, which was gold velveteen. My other childhood friend, Woogie, remarked it was reminiscent of 1970's Boutique de Boo-tay, and did inspire one to jump up on the somewhat dented coffee table and belt out a few bars of "Brick House".
While the majority of the party chose to be
Or as I like to call it "Oasis of Decadent Goodness in Ceasar's Palace" (nom nom nom). Word of advice: in the Dead of Summer, always protect the goods - take a cab back to the hotel.
My favorite part of the weekend? Saying obnoxious things just to make the bride blush and giggle... FYI: pink bondage tape makes a great shower gift for the Ann Taylor/J. Crew set.
[C.D. and River have since been married - CONGRATULATIONS!!!
You are a seriously awesome couple - next round is on me!]
You are a seriously awesome couple - next round is on me!]
After brief respite in California, I joined Yolandar in the lazy comfort of Phoenix... Okay, we were actually in Scottsdale, which made us some of the sexiest beeches at the Retirement Center pool.
We spent most of the time by the pool and in happenin' restaurants/bars, eating great food. Okay, mostly drinking great food.
"Of COURSE margaritas count as lunch! Geez!"
After dark, we went for a walk in a beautiful lightening storm, which, as the rain broke, turned into an unintentional wet T-shirt contest. People either thought we were crazy or wanted to buy us drinks.
Compounding this insanity, we climbed Camelback Mountain, only to discover halfway up we had turned onto the 'advanced' trail. I was in admiration of the leathery old farts who made me eat their trail dust. If I trained as hard as they did in direct desert sunlight, I wouldn't be a buff senior citizen, I'd be more like
The vacation was chic-flicktastic. We laughed. We shared. We fell in love...
With puppies:
My expression behind the camera phone was along the lines of
Yolandar is an amazing vacation buddy and graciously allowed me to drag her around... Even to the puppy store. A must-stop in Scottsdale is Pet's Landing, where they let you molest the puppies and kitties until you're completely smitten and have to resist the urge to buy them in bulk... I almost hooked kittens to my shirt and stuffed wiener dogs in my pockets.
Hey, I needed my hands free to snag a Welsh Corgi.
I always do my best to protect the identity of my Pak and their loved ones, so I won't go into a lot of detail about Yolandar's brother and his family... They invited us to dinner at their home, which turned out to be a drool-inducing fajita smörgåsbord. There were several cute moments: her brother intentionally burning steak because I like carbon coating on my meats; the sister-in-law who risks life and limb and back surgery to repaint the house by herself; their adorable punkette daughter; their World of Warcraft-addicted son who fuels planes in death-inducing temperatures at PHX.
One very awesome family.
All in all, an absolutely wonderful August with some very wonderful people. Thanks, my pretties.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to wring out my liver.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Only the Strong Shall Thrive
I found this vid clip on my own and it defies words. When I'm feeling pissy about something, I can watch this and be inspired by a person who has the strength to press onward.
I cannot praise him or his friends enough. They are 'real' together and a true Family of Choice unit. Loving someone despite day-to-day obstacles is never easy. There will be emotional turmoil and consternation, but friendships which survive adversity are true and priceless.
I will never view Zack Weinstein as 'disabled', for he has the beautiful ability to appreciate life.
Way to achieve, Zack. You put the rest of us whiners to shame:
Brilliant. Simply brilliant.
I cannot praise him or his friends enough. They are 'real' together and a true Family of Choice unit. Loving someone despite day-to-day obstacles is never easy. There will be emotional turmoil and consternation, but friendships which survive adversity are true and priceless.
I will never view Zack Weinstein as 'disabled', for he has the beautiful ability to appreciate life.
Way to achieve, Zack. You put the rest of us whiners to shame:
Brilliant. Simply brilliant.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Screaming Out Loud
[This was inspired by and written for a particular individual, but I dedicate it to all of my slightly worn beloveds, who are perfect with their chipped edges, scratches, and stains.]
T.,
I do not know you.
I don’t know what has fueled your joys and sorrows.
I don’t know what made you curl up instead of flying free.
I don’t know why you’re feeling broken inside.
My life may be nothing like yours… but I’ve lain there in that hospital bed, feeling worse for being there because I stumbled at the moment of my intended exit, feeling like it was further proof of personal failure and ineptitude.
Years later, I cannot believe I was willing to throw away every minute I’ve had since. No, it hasn't been all pleasant. Yet, the glory of new discoveries in a world I never previously perceived has been dazzling.
What I winnowed from those years was an understanding of the seemingly impenetrable darkness of a haunted mind. Some of us are beaten, some of us are screamed at, some are distorted by apathy. It comes from strangers, casual acquaintances, or, worst of all, from friends and family. Regardless of the ignition age or source of distress, the mind can incubate and nurture stygian obsession with adroit skill.
Consumed by such bile, many display complex coded cries for help. Family believes it sees us. Family swears it knows us. Those who believe they understand us are often the last to know, and rarely comprehend the entire situation. And Family has its constrictions.
A dear childhood friend had a mother more heartless than any I’ve met. My friend’s mother never missed the chance to tell her little angel “you look fat in that”, “that looks horrible on you: go upstairs and change”. For her sixteenth birthday, this woman gave her daughter a scale. My friend swallowed pills for years. Never truly wanting death, but quietly hoping for an accident… Just to make it stop... Just to make the voice down the hall stop.
Then there is another who seemed to shine so bright. I watched her grow up, screamed my guts out at her sports games, and never saw the undeniable truth: she was fading. I was right there, fading alongside her and I never said a word. Her eating disorder reduced her from fierce feminine beauty to potential collegiate expulsion.
...
Those of us in the dark know complete recovery is impossible; we’ll always have cerebral muscle-memory of the pain, but we can turn on a light.
Or even open a window.
Five years ago, as I had another of my then-typical agoraphobic anxiety attacks, someone bitch-slapped me out of it:
“I don’t have any respect for people like you.”
In that black pre-dawn hour, I saw clearly.
I would not accept scorn from the apathetic or pity from the loving. I refused to allow suicidal self-hatred to define or mar the life I could lead. I would be damned if I gave up without a fight.
I was no longer despairing… I was furiously determined.
...
And then there are the people we love…
Living solely to protect others from the pain of your passing is not enough. Tolerating your existence to martyr yourself to their needs is not enough. You can thrive on loving them, but you cannot survive living only for their peace of mind.
In the end, happiness requires we stand tall in our own shoes – heels or flats, sneakers or boots – voices calling out for the freedom, life, and love we deserve.
Don’t whisper - shout. Jump up and down, wave your arms, thrash around.
We will see you.
Never forget: you are not alone.
There are many like us, and I have lived to meet them.
We cannot eat; we cannot eat without purging; we cannot eat for fear of nerves.
We cut our flesh to redirect the pain, to distract our minds, to punish ourselves.
We drink to be numb; we drink to forget; we drink because it is something else to do besides obsess.
We question the source of happiness and beat our heads against the wall in frustration as it all appears ever so slightly beyond our grasp.
We love our families… Why don’t they understand us…
We hate our families… Why couldn’t they see the damage they’ve done….
If you leave us now, we lose another sister, another soldier, who could have stood with us and helped lead the next generation home.
Believe me when I say, you do not want to miss this. The world may be vast and terrifying, and the internal world even more so, but you do not want to miss this.
We are here, waiting. We have each other. We’re a lot fun and laughter… We’d like to meet you.
If you open the window, perhaps you will discover you want to meet us, too.
T.,
I do not know you.
I don’t know what has fueled your joys and sorrows.
I don’t know what made you curl up instead of flying free.
I don’t know why you’re feeling broken inside.
My life may be nothing like yours… but I’ve lain there in that hospital bed, feeling worse for being there because I stumbled at the moment of my intended exit, feeling like it was further proof of personal failure and ineptitude.
Years later, I cannot believe I was willing to throw away every minute I’ve had since. No, it hasn't been all pleasant. Yet, the glory of new discoveries in a world I never previously perceived has been dazzling.
What I winnowed from those years was an understanding of the seemingly impenetrable darkness of a haunted mind. Some of us are beaten, some of us are screamed at, some are distorted by apathy. It comes from strangers, casual acquaintances, or, worst of all, from friends and family. Regardless of the ignition age or source of distress, the mind can incubate and nurture stygian obsession with adroit skill.
Consumed by such bile, many display complex coded cries for help. Family believes it sees us. Family swears it knows us. Those who believe they understand us are often the last to know, and rarely comprehend the entire situation. And Family has its constrictions.
A dear childhood friend had a mother more heartless than any I’ve met. My friend’s mother never missed the chance to tell her little angel “you look fat in that”, “that looks horrible on you: go upstairs and change”. For her sixteenth birthday, this woman gave her daughter a scale. My friend swallowed pills for years. Never truly wanting death, but quietly hoping for an accident… Just to make it stop... Just to make the voice down the hall stop.
Then there is another who seemed to shine so bright. I watched her grow up, screamed my guts out at her sports games, and never saw the undeniable truth: she was fading. I was right there, fading alongside her and I never said a word. Her eating disorder reduced her from fierce feminine beauty to potential collegiate expulsion.
...
Those of us in the dark know complete recovery is impossible; we’ll always have cerebral muscle-memory of the pain, but we can turn on a light.
Or even open a window.
Five years ago, as I had another of my then-typical agoraphobic anxiety attacks, someone bitch-slapped me out of it:
“I don’t have any respect for people like you.”
In that black pre-dawn hour, I saw clearly.
I would not accept scorn from the apathetic or pity from the loving. I refused to allow suicidal self-hatred to define or mar the life I could lead. I would be damned if I gave up without a fight.
I was no longer despairing… I was furiously determined.
...
And then there are the people we love…
Living solely to protect others from the pain of your passing is not enough. Tolerating your existence to martyr yourself to their needs is not enough. You can thrive on loving them, but you cannot survive living only for their peace of mind.
In the end, happiness requires we stand tall in our own shoes – heels or flats, sneakers or boots – voices calling out for the freedom, life, and love we deserve.
Don’t whisper - shout. Jump up and down, wave your arms, thrash around.
We will see you.
Never forget: you are not alone.
There are many like us, and I have lived to meet them.
We cannot eat; we cannot eat without purging; we cannot eat for fear of nerves.
We cut our flesh to redirect the pain, to distract our minds, to punish ourselves.
We drink to be numb; we drink to forget; we drink because it is something else to do besides obsess.
We question the source of happiness and beat our heads against the wall in frustration as it all appears ever so slightly beyond our grasp.
We love our families… Why don’t they understand us…
We hate our families… Why couldn’t they see the damage they’ve done….
If you leave us now, we lose another sister, another soldier, who could have stood with us and helped lead the next generation home.
Believe me when I say, you do not want to miss this. The world may be vast and terrifying, and the internal world even more so, but you do not want to miss this.
We are here, waiting. We have each other. We’re a lot fun and laughter… We’d like to meet you.
If you open the window, perhaps you will discover you want to meet us, too.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Simple Joys
Encouraged by my September 2006 trip to Portland, I made another visit in January 2007.
While standing in the bar line at Hive, I began conversing with Eshin (those of you 'in the know' will understand the pseudonym). I thought he was a dear, so I willingly parted with my e-mail - the real address, not my "Well, you're SPAM" address.
Digital correspondence and blog-sharing have, delightfully, revealed harmonious demeanors and sense of humor.
I lifted this from Eshin's web journal, and I dedicate it to Jewels, with whom I have spent years watching Muppets and other television intended for children:
Thanks, you two, for giving me reasons to smile.
Yip Yip-ee-I yo mama!
While standing in the bar line at Hive, I began conversing with Eshin (those of you 'in the know' will understand the pseudonym). I thought he was a dear, so I willingly parted with my e-mail - the real address, not my "Well, you're SPAM" address.
Digital correspondence and blog-sharing have, delightfully, revealed harmonious demeanors and sense of humor.
I lifted this from Eshin's web journal, and I dedicate it to Jewels, with whom I have spent years watching Muppets and other television intended for children:
Thanks, you two, for giving me reasons to smile.
Yip Yip-ee-I yo mama!
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Before Sunrise
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
At once terrifying and exquisite, it is surrender to the unknown, releasing our inhibitions and dismantling well-developed defenses, pushing past all self-repression to embrace a new piece of knowledge and the possibility of hope renewed and faith restored.
Those individuals who inspire and invoke such radical action beyond our comfort zone with sincere kindness and absence of ulterior motive or passive-aggressive dominance, all for the purpose of gently pressing us into a new world of brighter possibilities, are the muses of modern times.
They're our blood. They're our friends. They have their needs and problems, but they're our family of choice, blood or no.
We love them and stand by them, even when they fail us...
Even when they fail themselves.
We cannot imagine our world, our lives, our souls without them.
Life will take many paths, some which cross more frequently than others.
To all my pretties:
When the shit hits the fan and you feel pressed beyond bearing, you can always come home.
This door is always open; here, you will never be forgotten.
Welcome to our newest addition from Bellevue, WA. Another brilliant inspiration in the dark heart of American apathy. Head high, Starshine: you're more important than you know.
At once terrifying and exquisite, it is surrender to the unknown, releasing our inhibitions and dismantling well-developed defenses, pushing past all self-repression to embrace a new piece of knowledge and the possibility of hope renewed and faith restored.
Those individuals who inspire and invoke such radical action beyond our comfort zone with sincere kindness and absence of ulterior motive or passive-aggressive dominance, all for the purpose of gently pressing us into a new world of brighter possibilities, are the muses of modern times.
They're our blood. They're our friends. They have their needs and problems, but they're our family of choice, blood or no.
We love them and stand by them, even when they fail us...
Even when they fail themselves.
We cannot imagine our world, our lives, our souls without them.
Life will take many paths, some which cross more frequently than others.
To all my pretties:
When the shit hits the fan and you feel pressed beyond bearing, you can always come home.
This door is always open; here, you will never be forgotten.
Welcome to our newest addition from Bellevue, WA. Another brilliant inspiration in the dark heart of American apathy. Head high, Starshine: you're more important than you know.
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