Vanity thy name is self

VANITY THY NAME IS SELF

i have never considered myself vain. never. i've had bad acne in my youth, and still on occasion. thanks mom =:0) of course, that means less wrinkles or so i am told. i've had bad acne, i've been anorexic thin and i have been very overweight. okay, let's call it what it was--fat. but never have i looked in the mirror and said, "mary you are all that and a bag of chips." 

okay, so that's not quite true. it's a partial truth. i have always considered my eyes my best feature. the path and window to my soul. you can look at my eyes, and see what i am all about.

 happiness 

EXCITEMENT............................................>

seriousness

silly

 

 seductive---------------->

 so yes i have looked in the mirror and thought hell yeah, my eyes are on point today. i love eye shadow, eyeliner, and colored mascara.

this is where the vanity comes in. recently this has been happening:

hideous, swollen, red, puffy, itchy allergy eyes. i finally broke down and went to an allergist. of the 40 most common allergens, i tested 0 for them. leave it to me to have an uncommon allergy. treatment plan: wash lids and surrounding area daily with baby shampoo, change face soap to Cetaphil, 2 types of eye drops and NO EYE MAKEUP, CONCEALER OR EYE CREAM until i go back on april 3rd. 

NO EYE MAKEUP, NO EYE MAKEUP, NO EYE MAKEUP. i can't do this. i just can't . i am screaming this inside. i can't go out in public looking like a red golf ball eyed freak. if it's not red then it's dry and scaly. i just can't. 

well i had to. i have a job i must go to. a life i must live. the first few days i wore glasses to try to cover it up. ha! no luck there, plus the glasses are shit (thanks target) i can see far away but not up close. 
as a good friend says~~i had to suck it up buttercup.

what a lesson in humility. an eye opener (pun (not) intended?). i learned something about myself. i was vain. yes VANITY THY NAME IS SELF! i am about halfway through til the next allergy appointment, and it doesn't bother me so much anymore. would i like to do up my eyes? YES. can i go without and not feel like a freak? YES I CAN. in fact i have been able to sleep an extra 15 minutes every morning skipping the eye makeup step in my routine. BONUS!!!!

it's never too late to learn about yourself, about humility, grace, and being thankful for what you have. i have eyes that i can see out of and read with. hallelujah. when i get my eye allergy straightened out will i go back to doing up my peepers? SURE. but i will have a choice and if i don't feel like it, it won't bother me so much any more.

VANITY THY NAME IS SELFIE WITHOUT ANY MAKEUP....

 

 

 

Jury Duty

The dreaded Jury Duty. 

Let's face it we've all cringed when we get that jury summons in the mail. Excuses quickly fly out of our mouths; I can't miss work (really?), I hate driving into (insert your city here), it doesn't really matter, my opinion doesn't count, only old people have time for this, ad nauseum.

To me serving on a jury is one of the greatest things we can do as a citizen. Until a better way is found, being judged by a jury of one's peers is the closest thing to an honest ruling as one can get.

Yesterday I searched online at Barnes and Noble (where I work) and Amazon and to my surprise there are several books on how to avoid serving on a jury! Many more than how to serve on a jury.

Where is all this coming from you may ask? Mary usually keeps to her rule: I don't discuss anything to do with politics with friends or family. This is however a service I feel very strongly about.

I had jury duty last week. Yes, I am a true crime junkie, and love to watch crime documentaries, "Cops," and "Live PD" and the list could go on forever. I study on my own criminology, forensics, criminal profiling and such. I read textbooks on these topics for pleasure. So yes, I actually love jury duty.  Some reason are obvious, see previous two sentences. Other reasons are not so obvious.

I have served on 4 juries so far in my lifetime. 2 criminal and 2 civil. Every single one of them was an eye opening experience. You get to actually see our Justice System in action. 

I take serving on a jury very seriously. Others do not. Some will bitch and complain. They have better things to do with their time. They promised their grand child a great adventure on Friday, so damnit this thing better be over by then. There have been a few jurors who did not take it seriously. On one jury we were to be in the jury room at 9 a.m. promptly. Juror X didn't give a flip and decided they needed to buy groceries instead. They received a shock when they were picked up by an officer and escorted into the courtroom and dressed down by the judge. They held up court, held up witnesses that had other places to be after testimony, and by doing so wound up costing the taxpayers extra money. 

I have found that in being on a jury, the jury panel becomes this close knit family, if you will, for the duration of the trial. Friendships are made, grand children's (and pet) photos passed around. You are with twelve very different people, from all walks of life for about 8 hours a day. You laugh, you cry, maybe have lunch together and yes you fight.

Being a juror is a very emotional experience (at least for me). You can't (and shouldn't) discuss the case you are on with anyone, including your fellow jurors, until final arguments are made and the judge reads the jury instructions on what to do and how to find the verdict. You go home and you can't tell your spouse what you heard that day, friends ask about it, but you can't tell them. Some get miffed: "Hey man, you know me, I won't tell a soul." But you know if you do you could cause a mistrial. It is a heavy burden. A burden I take with pride. For what ever reasons we as the jurors were selected,  we have been entrusted with all we see and hear in the courtroom. I have gone home and cried, screamed in my car driving home, sat and pondered and sometimes not slept. Cases can be disturbing, graphic, extremely sad and horrifying.

Before deliberation can begin a jury foreman is selected. Most times no one wants to take that bull by the horn. I don't mind. The most recent trial I was a juror for, I served as foreman (foreperson?) and I take that job seriously. You must first get your fellow jurors settled down and ready to work. Sometimes it's easy, sometimes not. It's the first time all twelve of you can actually and actively talk about what you have seen and heard. You can review the evidence presented in court. On a civil trial only 10 of the 12 must be in agreement. On a criminal trial all 12 must be in agreement. It can get nasty, people fight, bargain, cajole and try to convince the others. The foreman has to guide everyone and keep things on track. Once a verdict is reached there are usually papers to fill out and be signed. Yes, that's your signature on there attesting to the verdict rendered. 

Once back in the courtroom the foreman is usually identified, turns the verdict over to the bailiff and the verdict is read out loud to the court. Sometimes you are actually polled and have to answer in person, which can be scary, especially on a criminal case. After the trial you are usually given an opportunity to ask the judge and lawyers questions, and they may ask you questions. Your jury badge is turned in and away you go back to your normal life.

It's really not over, at least for a person like me. That insular family you formed is gone. Promises to keep in touch are usually forgotten; life happens. You grieve a little or a lot. You miss your "family," you grieve for the participants that were on trial and their families. You might second guess yourself, "did I do the right thing?" or " is that guy going to come after me when his time served is over?"   

I compare jury duty to the french phrase "le petite mort" which roughly translates to "the little death." Similarly I, and maybe others go through the stages of grief-shock, denial, anger and acceptance.

Maybe it's just me, but I hope the next time you get a jury summons, that you take it seriously and with great pride. Being a juror is a priveledge. Hold it dear. Listen with an  open mind. Make your decicison and know you have served well.

2.7.17





 

The ballads of Maryintexas39's tattoos.

First I would like to say I cadged the title of this particular blog from one of my favorite author's, Stephanie Kuehnert Lewis, book "The Ballads of Suburbia". Read it if you haven't already.

People often ask me or wonder why the tattoos. What possessed me? Why on earth would I do this to myself? To answer these questions you will have to learn a little bit about me as we go along. I know I don't have many readers. Shrug. So maybe this is just an exercise for me. Whatever it is, it feels cathartic. There is a strong relationship between music and religion in most of my tattoos.

I had always jokingly said that before I died I wanted to shave my head and get a tattoo. But my other half would have to be gone first, as he doesn't like either of these. Well he's not gone yet, but this is my story.

I will start by saying I am a very spiritual person. Some of you may be surprised by this. I believe in God, a Higher Power, or what ever you want to call Him. I am very sensitive, emotional, and wear my heart on my sleeve. I believe I have suffered from depression, OCD/Panic Anxiety, Trichotillomania and Irritable Bowel Syndrome for most of my life. However, these bad boys really reared their ugly heads after my Dad passed away. I never expected Dad to go first. No offense to Mom, but she has health problems and it always seemed she would be the first to go. When my Dad passed away I was in a very dark, black place. No one knows this but I thought of taking my life several times. Luckily I didn't.

I had been a fan of Michael McDermott since his first cd release, but had kind of lost touch with his music. Something compelled me to look him up on the internet. What I found was music that touched my soul and a fan base of the greatest sort, many of whom have become lifetime friends. We call ourselves; Paupers, McDerelicts, and Those Abandoned In-Between. Through the fans, the music, the community spirit;  I started healing. I was able to actually go to Chicago, Michael's home base, for a cd release party. There I met my online friends for the first time. We had set up a dinner for the fans before the show. Michael himself came. Despite that feeling that when you put someone up on a pedestal, they won't live up to your expectations, or that they will let you down in some way, Michael was very genuine, sweet and spent quite a bit of time making me feel like one of the family so to speak. The show was amazing. It was like a religious experience. Every single person in the venue, singing the words to every song. The love in the room was palpable. I love my friends I have made through Michael's music. I love Michael and his family, his music, his words that speak to my soul. I have ventured to Chicago many more times to see my friends and catch Michael McDermott playing his heart out.

Fast forward to several years ago. After my Dad passed away I gained a tremendous amount of weight. I topped out at 260 lbs! I was in bad health and decided to change my health and my life. Through counting carbs, portion control and exercise I lost 100 lbs!! And now at present I have lost 120 lbs. depending on the day and scale =:0)

This is where the first tattoo comes in. I wanted to do something to celebrate this achievement. Something for me. I chose angel wings. Angels, I believe in them. They also turn up in many a McDermott song. I asked Michael if he would write out the word "surrender" for me as I was going to get a tattoo. He nicely did this for me. Surrender turns up a lot in his lyrics. He even has a song called "Surrender." Surrender has so many meanings. It just seemed like the perfect choice. I went to, Nate Beavers, who is the greatest tattoo artist in Houston, nee the world. In an earlier blog I wrote about my first experience, so I won't go into it here only to say that Nate is a Christian and his work space was in his church at the time. I told him what I wanted and gave him the sample of Michael's writing. And of course, told him my favorite color was purple. Which he already knew. =:o) This is the result. It is on my inner right forearm.

 They say tattoos are addicting and I guess they are. Several months later I decided I had to get a second one. This time I found a beautiful picture of a statue of an angel. I once again asked Michael to write out the words "guardian angel." Which he graciously did for me. I took both to Nate, he did some tweaking on the angel and we were ready to go. To me there is something spiritual about getting a tattoo. For me the process is cathartic in the sense that while it's happening I lose myself in the process. Think deep thoughts, pray, and also listen to great music and have camaraderie with Nate. It's a cleansing of sorts, when that needle starts to buzz, if that makes any sense. The Guardian Angel represents my Dad who is surely watching me from Heaven above (not sure how he would take the tattoos) and Michael McDermott whose music, lyrics and person literally saved my life. Here is my Guardian Angel, who sits on my left upper arm and watches out for me.

After this tattoo, I swore that I was done. Well, as we all know I was wrong. I had some strong reactions to the now two tattoos I was sporting. Reactions from "I love it", to "it's creepy" that from my former boss. F*** her. I also heard I was being immature, act my age, you're gonna regret doing this ad nauseaum. None of that mattered to me because I was happy. It made me feel whole. Who am I hurting? I consider my tattoos my battle scars. It's a fight to live just about every day. They give me inspiration. They give me joy. They remind me of what I was and what I am now.


About 6-9 months later our cat, Tessa passed away. She was part of our lives for 17 years. I wanted to do something to memorialize her. I love sugar skulls, religious iconography, day of the dead and such. So I took several pictures of Tessa with me that my daughter had taken. Nate chose the one he thought would look the best. Then I asked him to incorporate a sugar skull into the work. What he came up with blew me out of my chair. 

What a gorgeous tribute to a life long friend. Tessa was always there when I needed her loving kisses or gentle purring. Now she is permanently with me. The detail, design and colors are just amazing. You can actually see the individual hairs. Just gorgeous.

At the same visit I asked Nate to put a little ditty on my left upper chest near the collarbone. It's the emblem from Adam Ant's cd "Wonderful." What's not to like about a heart that looks like sunshine. Adam is still a favorite of mine. His was actually one of the first "big" fandoms I was a part of.    

A McDermott pal of mine introduced me to the music of Val Emmich. Thanks Buzzsaw (Marshal). He thought I would like it. Love it is more like it. Val is a genius lyricist. If you haven't ever listened to him, I highly suggest you check him out. Every so often he does what he calls "Song Shop." For a fee you tell him what you want the song to be about, or give him facts about yourself, send him poetry and he creates a song for you. I don't know of many artists who can produce beautiful, fun, meaningful songs in a short period of time, that are brilliant and spot on. I've always wanted a song written about me and since no one had yet I decided to splurge. I sent him some factoids, and some of my poetry. We had communicated via email several times, and interacted via Stageit (which Michael McDermott also uses). The song I received, "Mary" but I refer to it as "Mary's Song" is fun, poignant and captured my life and feelings at that point and time in my life exactly. I cried when I heard the song the first time. 

So yes, you guessed right. I wanted to somehow turn this song into a tattoo. I was still working in a library at the time and thought it would be interesting if we could somehow turn a book into a rose. I went to Nate with the idea. I also had choice words from the song that I wanted highlighted somehow. Nate come up with the idea of using old dictionary pages to illustrate the words I wanted highlighted. The end result is breath taking.

 

(No that is not my ass. Ha Ha Mom). This one is on my back right shoulder blade. In person it is so much more gorgeous. The word "relief" is written in Val's handwriting. He was also gracious to let me use his handwriting. So again music touches my soul.








What did I say that tattoos can be addicting? Yes, but as I said to me,  they are a celebration, a battle scar, a piece of my life permanently etched on my skin. In essence I am my own piece of art.

The next inspiration was from a band called Needtobreathe. They have a song "Be More Heart and Less Attack" of which the sentiment really touched a chord with me. We can all use more heart and less attack in our lives. I wanted to do something with the phrase. As I mentioned I love religious iconography and wondered if the sacred/eternal heart would work with these lyrics. I asked Michael McDermott if he would write the phrase out for me. Again he graciously did, even though it wasn't his song. (Thank you Michael!) So off to Nate I go with an idea and words. We used a Victorian sacred/eternal heart and the lyrics and it fit together wonderfully. A few weeks later I saw Needtobreathe in concert and met the band before the show. I showed them the tattoo and they loved it.

Placement is on my left upper shoulder blade. Gorgeous isn't it??

Did I mention I love dragonflies? Well I do and I decided the next tattoo would be a dragonfly. Dragonflies are harbingers of hope, luck, and sometimes I like to think they are angels visiting earth in beautiful, gorgeous bodies. I chose the Roseate Skipper as it was colorful and yes, purple. This one is spiritual. No musical connection. At least not that I know of yet. Placement is my right calf. In person it appears it's about to take flight. As usual Nate did a bang-up job. The detail is incredible.

 















At this point I said I was done. Sure, Mary, sure. That was 10 months ago. At that time there was a lot of upheaval in my life. I won't bore you with all the gory details except to say I was forced to leave my job and within 3 days was caretaker of my elderly in laws. One of whom passed away in November. Once again I sunk into a bad, dark place. Wondering why? What was my purpose? Do I make a difference? Does anybody freaking care? Self-pity and depression are never a good place to be.

 During this time I somehow stumbled onto a video by a new band from Long Island, New York--Approaching Troy. I loved them. They made me feel alive again. I reached out to them and quickly became internet buddies with Jake, Dom, Sean (Angry Boy. jk), Alex (Jay) and Joe. They have welcomed the crazy gal from Texas into their Approaching Troy family. And for that I thank you (even if you aren't coming to Texas on this tour, haha).

Also during this time a phrase from a Val Emmich song became an earworm. I couldn't get it out of my head. "The beautiful terror, makes me mute." I contacted Val and asked if he would mind if I used it for a tattoo and could he possible write the line out for me to use as well. Once again, he graciously wrote it out for me. There are still good, generous and beautiful people around in this world.

Then a band I've loved since their first release, Third Eye Blind, was gearing up to release a new cd, their first in 6 years. I had seen them once on tour several years back and thought to myself, if I was in a band, Stephan Jenkins is who I would want to be. Pure entertainer. The whole enchilada. And yes, there was a time when I wanted to be a "rock star". I couldn't sing worth crap, but had the entertainer part down. The Hopeless Kids, we played garages all over Friendswood.  There is a difference at least to me, you can be a great band, a great singer, but there are a few that are born entertainers as well. Robbie Williams also comes to mind. So with a new 3eb release I was very intrigued as to what the new music would be like. Dopamine, is their new release and I love it. At the last minute I decided I had to go to their concert. Luckily I found some good seats at a decent price at Stub Hub. (Shhh! Don't tell). 4th row. I wish I had been in the pit but 4th row was great. Me and my Sista J went and the show, the band, nor Mr. Jenkins did not disappoint. Once again, a show that seemed spiritual. With most singing along to every word to every song. Stephan Jenkins owned the stage that night. (P.S. Stephan, I love the skirt). I have also found a great 3eb community online, The Misfits, that have welcomed me with open arms.

What is all this leading up to? A marathon tattoo session--3 in one sitting. (Something I probably wouldn't do again in one sitting. But I am tough and got through it just fine. Just a little bruised up and sore for the next few days.) I swear this is the last. Really! I am running out of real estate. So Monday July 6th I was back with Nate again and several crazy ideas.

First on the agenda was 3eb related. I wanted the molecule, dopamine, also the name of their new cd (and a song on the cd), with 3eb in the middle. Dopamine is something we all have in our brains. It controls happiness, lust, love, addictions among other things. (My Mom, a retired RN told me that when people get old sometimes they lose dopamine, and have to replace it.) So this is it. Placement is on my left calf. The dark parts are actually dark purple and the round parts are jewel tone greens. This was taken right after it was done.

I tweeted this to the band and Stephan Jenkins retweeted saying "Oh my God this is amazing." That made my day! I hope to one day meet him. He is a gifted entertainer, a gifted poet and lyricist. 

Next up was the band logo from Approaching Troy. They have made me feel like family, even though I am so far away. Plus the logo is just pretty damn cool. It's dark purple outlined in black. Placement right chest/collar bone area. Again I hope to meet them some day as well. Although we did talk via phone/radio on a very, ahem, different radio show. =:O) And yes this was taken right after being done.

 Last on the agenda was the most difficult. Remember the Val Emmich line that I am so in love with "The beautiful terror, makes me mute". Well we had to come up with a way to illustrate this. Nate suggested a mouth--but how to make it mute? After viewing some pretty crazy stuff on the internet, someone actually has a zipper installed on their tongue!! We decided with a mouth that was zipped up, with the wording underneath. The zipper also ties in with my punk rock roots. I didn't want the mouth to look sinister, I am sure some will think it does, but I don't. Just a pretty mouth that is scared to speak. This one is on my right waist/rib area between bottom bra line and pant line. 

So that makes a total of ten tattoos in two years. I think I am done. 

Most of these tattoos are ballads of some sort or another. Stories of my life, a moment, a phrase and most have a religious element as well.

I feel they define who I am. What I am. When I am down, I look at Surrender and take hope. I look at my back in the mirror and remind myself to be more heart, less attack. To be more kind, let go of the negativity I have been carrying around. I see Dopamine and remember an awesome show, my love for 3eb and remind myself I deserve to be happy. I look at my dragonfly and my heart soars on it's wings. I see Tessa and remember that unconditional love that an animal gives. I see my Guardian Angel and know my Dad is up there waiting for me and thanking God that Michael McDermott's music saved my life. I see Approaching Troy and love that I love music and that music loves me. These guys make me happy to still be loving music. The wonderful heart makes me smile. My book rose, well when I see it I want to cry. It is just so beautiful. And Val
Emmich's talent is just so real, so there. I also want to cry because without knowing me, he does know me. My zippered lips-well they have many meanings to me. All the f'ing years I put up with abuse at work that I didn't have to. But also knowing I unzipped those lips and had the last word as I walked out the door. I thank Val for the beautiful phrase that has many meanings. 

I hope to meet Val, 3eb, and the Approaching Troy gang one day so I can tell each and every one of them how much they mean to me. How much they get me through a rough day, a rough week, through a Semi-Charmed life.

These are my ballads. My stories. My scars. My triumphs. I hope this gives you an understanding of the why and how come of my tattoos. The buzz of the tattoo needle, that inner sanctuary, where music, religion, and life come together and create beauty, art, and inner peace.

Thank you Nate Beavers for the beautiful artwork you have given me.
Thank you Michael McDermott, Val Emmich, Needtobreathe, Adam Ant, Approaching Troy and Third Eye Blind for being there when I needed you most.

you need to grow up....

just recently i was told by a certain someone, who shall remain nameless, who won't ever read this; that i needed to grow up !

i was angry, mad and a wee bit perplexed. why? why, i asked should i "grow up?" i was told i needed to act my age. i have never been aware of a guide book or rule book that we come into this world with that lays out parameters for how we are to conduct ourselves at each step along the way of life.

i have said it before and i will say it again, i will be in my old rocking chair with purple hair, perhaps a mohawk, with my doc martens, listening to music that makes me happy. be it michael mcdermott, approaching troy, val emmich, fall out boy, the sex pistols, the avett brothers, needtobreathe, will hoge, pitbull, prima donna and countless others too numerous to mention. i may have to turn my hearing aid up louder than normal, but what the hell. so what if i LOVE outlander, hannibal, the crow, the lost boys (72X in theatre) and collect toys and things related to what i love? who am i hurting?

what is it hurting if i enjoy what i enjoy. music-preferably loud, going to concerts, tattoos, sugar skulls, religious iconography, photography, books-be they popular, obscure, victorian, vampires, new adult, serial killers, criminology and the like, and traveling to see my friends. i can't help it if all my friends live so far away. (and your suggestion to find some new friends, well that isn't so easy. do i take out an ad in the local paper?? friend wanted...blah, blah, blah. i can imagine the responses i would get.)

i have come a long way in the last few years, ne months 9 to be exact--like giving birth to a new me. lost approximately 120 lbs., been forced out of a job i loved (but a boss i did not), care taker of my two elderly in-laws (one of whom passed away), for the first time in years not having a "real" job. i've faced crisis of faith, of self, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, the return of trichotilomania, darling daughter moving out and becoming her own person, adopted a cat-miyuki, and learned how to live on a smaller budget (and you know how i like to shop).

through all this chaos and turmoil i've questioned myself. what am i here for? what is my purpose in life? does anyone truly care? will anyone miss me when i am gone? what will i be remembered for, if anything, when i am gone? did i make a difference?

so don't tell me to grow up--because i have. i've earned my stripes. if i want to get another tattoo, I WILL. if i want to play my music loud and sing my lungs out in the car,  I WILL. if i want to dress funky, I WILL damnit. I WILL. age is a state of mind in my opinion and i will be FOREVER YOUNG!

so when you tell me to grow up and that i EMBARRASS you, i feel sorry for you. that you cannot embrace life without worrying about what others think of you. 

i am not perfect, have never claimed to be and never will. but if i leave anything behind, it's this....I AM FOREVER YOUNG AND DAMN THE TORPEDOES, I ALWAYS WILL BE.

morning walk

it's been a long time......

......did ya miss me?

surely you think, she's not working now why the hell doesn't she blog.  no excuse! laziness? depression? shrug..... i guess i am ready now. and without further ado...

this morning i decided instead of going to the gym i would take the mile route i occasionally walk in my neighborhood. these are disturbing things i saw along the way:

dog crap...lot's of dog crap. PEOPLE if you are going to walk your dog carry a bag or AT LEAST let the beastie crap in the grass not on the sidewalk, lest unsuspecting people like me listening to music, pondering the world step in it. 

airline booze bottles....thrown out all along the route. really??

beer cans....see above. please drink at home and don't drive.

a used condom and wrapper....i can only hope they were not driving whilst engaging in activities better suited to a non moving vehicle.

a banana peel....at least that one is biodegradable.

a pile of vomit....that a colony of ants were making their own.

everyone running the fricking stop signs...when did red start meaning GO?? does anyone but me still stop at a stop sign?

a piece of foil with burn marks obviously used to smoke heroin, meth, crack or some other drug that you can smoke....this was by the school bus stop!!!

friends, i live in a "nice" neighborhood. i moved from a horrible neighborhood to this "nice" one. homes range from the $250K to $1 million K +!!!! i cringe every january when i write the check for homeowners fees.

to say i was disturbed is an understatement. this is where i live. this is where i will possibly grow old. there are many, many children in this neighborhood. this saddens me.

when i got home i noticed my index finger on my right hand was cut and dripping blood. how the hell did that happen??? i think maybe i cut it on the cap of my water bottle. needless to say i peroxided the hell out of that cut.

and to top it all off my fit bit says i only walked .5 miles. i've driven the route in the car and it is 1 mile roundtrip. damn you fit bit!!! at least i was listening to some good music--val emmich--along the way.

p.s. i guess i need to change to book background? although i still have a book or two's worth of library stories from the pages of my mind.


  

a few new thoughts and a poem

it's been awhile. either my life is boring or i haven't had time or made the effort to keep on top of this. this blog, diary, whatever you want to call it. 

still loving my tattoos. they define me. they make me feel whole.

took a vacation to big bend. hiking. can't believe *i* went hiking. 9 hikes. no injuries. unbelievable right? i enjoyed it immensely. i love the area. truly god's country. i only wish i could have taken tons more photos. next time. 

halloween over. bah. not even thanksgiving and people are trying to outdo each other in decorations. spare me the shallowness that christmas has become. jaded? yes. 

lotsa new music. michael mcdermott's "hit me back", the avett brothers "the carpenter", rick springfield, pitbull and phillip phillips. what's a girl to do but sing and dance. that's a  sight.

on to the newest poem i've been working on.


battlefield

love is war
it’s a bitter pill
that’s hard to swallow

dodging words like bullets
i don't know where to place 
one foot in front of the other

stepping on land mines
the bible in my pocket
shields my heart
from the shrapnel
and the fallout

I can’t hear anymore
the words are like
a phantom limb
I can still feel them
after they are  long gone
“physically ill in my presence”

give me patience, give me strength 
 I need some surrender 
it's all too much 

the battlefield 
is filled 
with land mines

broken hearts
and lost souls
wander aimlessly
amongst the blood
and debris

wondering what
went
wrong
and when did
love
turn
to hate

there is no white flag
no surrender
just bitter pills
and shrapel
stuck under my skin

you 
win
11/20/2012

till next time.

been a long time--new tattoo and poetry

yes, it's been a long time since i blogged. summer happened. at the library that means
never a dull moment and no time to think. tiredness when i come home. i did go to chicago to see my favorite musician and all my friends for the michael mcdermott record release preview. always a fun trip.

recently got my second tattoo. which i dearly love and am totally amazed by. the artist, nate beavers, is the best in the world. i would not trust my body to anyone else. his tattoos are truly living art.

these photos are from right after the tattoo was finished. it's healing nicely. the pictures do not do it justice. my arm is a living painting.

and without further ado.....my new poem.....


the words

don’t say the words
i
love
you
when there is
no love and light
behind your eyes

all those words
are
empty
and 
hollow
and cut me 
like a knife

i would lay down
my 
life 
for you
sacrifice my soul 
for you

yet
those words
are not a
comfort
to 
me

they hurt
they bruise
they crush
they eat
my soul

you are a part
of me
that
i
chose 
to
give 
life to

we share
blood
family
roots
yet the words
are spoken
with 
no
love
nor 
light

if you only
knew
the love
of 
a 
mother
for
her 
child

then you
might
understand
how 
the hollowness
makes
me feel

unloved
unappreciated
taken for granted
like a stranger
in
a
strange
land
where there is no love

don’t say
those words
to 
me
unless
there is love
and light
behind your
yes

I would
rather
die
than
be led astray

9.9.2012