Spooky Six Word Saturday

That costume doesn't help matters much!

Poor thing thought she was cute!

My Boo...

I am in the middle of packing/moving/Hell.  We have to be out of the apartment by this weekend.  Fun stuff.  Not really going to miss this place with the drug wars outside, the constant barrage of Police sirens, the insane maudlin whackbag next door that knocks on my door all day long for no real reason (her record is 59 times in one day).  What I will miss are the local ghosties that have taken up shop here.  Everyone in the complex has had experiences here, but since we moved in they seem to have taken a liking to me and decided to hang around - A Lot!  They're a fiesty bunch, too.  Forever moving or hiding things...  Opening cabinets (which I, of course, walk into with much fanfare)...  Turning off the TV you are watching right at that best part - and simultaneously turning on the TV in the other room to Yo Gabba Gabba or some other such madness...

They've been more active than usual lately and I had just written it off as being close to Samhain - active energy - all that jazz.  The other morning I was talking to Mimi in here on the computer and they turned on the TV, full blast to The Shining!  The part where that wretched little boy is shouting "Redrum!" over and over and Shelley Duvall is braying like a mule.  Heck of a way to start the day, lemme tell ya!

But, now, I think there's more to it than just Samhain.  Had all the kitchen stuff laid out to pack.  Dishes in the floor with the newspaper to wrap them in all that jazz.  Went to the back to get a cigarette and my coffee, turned around and the dishes are gone.  Gone, y'all.  Not in the living room.  GONE.  I was completely gobsmacked.  Walked into the kitchen and all the empty cabinets that I had left open are now closed.  I'm now a little bit shaken at this point.  I open the cupboard, and lo and behold - ALL my dishes are put away...  Back in the cabinets.  Perfectly organized...  I am just stunned.

I really think I am gonna miss these boogers when we leave here.

And I am beginning to suspect they may just miss me as well...

Now, if only I could talk them into helping me PACK rather than UNPACK...  We'd be rockin'!

:: UPDATE:  What a trip.  Check out Mimi's blog from this morning... ::

The Invitation

 This is such a lovely piece that I seem to revisit from time to time, and always seem to get something new from it.  It's such a great reminder especially with Samhain at hand and a new year beginning.  Enjoy!

THE INVITATION

by Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Indian Elder

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your hearts longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals, or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true, I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.

I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it is not pretty every day, and if you can source your life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours or mine, and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't interest me who you are, or how you came to be here- I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

May 1994

Cookies of Fortune

This was inspired by my Mimi's latest blog about impaired vision and trying to take out some poor hapless lad in the parking lot!  (Ha ha!)  I thought with Samhain just mere days away and while I still have an oven (am in the middle of moving to nowhere), these would be fun to make and take with me on my journey.  A new year with new fortunes.  This past year has taught me that one should really create their own fortunes - so that's exactly what I intend to do!!!  They're super easy to make, y'all - you should really make some for yourselves!  They take about a half hour from start to finish - easy peasy.  One thing to take into consideration:  use acid-free paper and pens (like you would use for scrapbooking) to do your fortunes - otherwise they tend to bleed and make an uggy mess - and do NOT use Sharpie markers!!!  Makes the cookies taste fonky!

• 2 large egg whites
• 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 1/2 teaspoon pure almond extract
• 3 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 8 tablespoons all-purpose flour
• 1 1/2 teaspoons cornstarch
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 8 tablespoons granulated sugar
• 3 teaspoons water

• Write fortunes on pieces of paper that are 3 1/2 inches long and 1/2 inch wide. Preheat oven to 300 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease 2 9-X-13 inch baking sheets.

• In a medium bowl, lightly beat the egg white, vanilla extract, almond extract and vegetable oil until frothy, but not stiff.

• Sift the flour, cornstarch, salt and sugar into a separate bowl. Stir the water into the flour mixture.

• Add the flour into the egg white mixture and stir until you have a smooth batter. The batter should not be runny, but should drop easily off a wooden spoon.

• Place level tablespoons of batter onto the cookie sheet, spacing them at least 3 inches apart. Gently tilt the baking sheet back and forth and from side to side so that each tablespoon of batter forms into a circle 4 inches in diameter.

• Bake until the outer 1/2-inch of each cookie turns golden brown and they are easy to remove from the baking sheet with a spatula (14 - 15 minutes).

• Working quickly, remove the cookie with a spatula and flip it over in your hand. Place a fortune in the middle of a cookie. To form the fortune cookie shape, fold the cookie in half, then gently pull the edges downward over the rim of a glass, wooden spoon or the edge of a muffin tin. Place the finished cookie in the cup of the muffin tin so that it keeps its shape. Continue with the rest of the cookies.

6 Word Saturday

I am learning to fly again.

[More on that later...]

Time & Place

While I appreciate all the feedback and support, I would prefer that we refrain from using the comments feature as a forum for flame wars. Bickering, bitching, and name calling in not appropriate and is counter-productive to the intent of this blog. Let's just all try to remember that despite high emotion and conviction, we are all still adults.

Thanks.

For Everything... Turn. Turn. Turn.

It's really staggering how quickly the tides can turn.  It was really an actually promising week, up until last night, for the most part.  Some good news.  Some changes.  Despite the week long headache, all the rain, and the general doldrums of it all, I was hopeful.  I was optimistic.  I felt things changing and moving forward.  There were opportunities manifest just on the horizon.  One.  More.  Step.  And then the proverbial poo went flying into the ceiling fan and rained chunky corn-filled shit down on everything.

Such is the way of life, I guess.

I don't know what is in store.  I think it hit me earlier when I began organizing the possessions that decorate my world.  I removed all the art from the front room's walls and a quiet eeriness set in.  It feels vast and empty and haunted in there now.  Your voice echoes when you speak, so my usual banter to myself and silly humming of nonsense is quieted.  I don't like hearing it bounce back at me.

So what next?  The heavens only know.  A part of me really does not want to leave.  A part of me is still foolishly hopeful - perhaps hopeful is not the proper word - wishful that things might have changed.  That things might have, in some way, ended (up) differently.  I don't know.  Perhaps I am just comfortable in this - be it good, bad, or indifferent - and fear the changes to come.

I really don't know what I am feeling...  I just know all this negativity is killing me.  Hope by hope.  Prayer by prayer.  Bone by bone.

And what I fear more is that eventually there won't be much of me left.

I feel I have already lost so, so much (of myself) already...

FUCKED from the get-go...

At what point do you realize you are fighting a losing battle...  I think I just got kicked in the balls with the realization that I am TOTALLY full of shit in believing that this is ever going to get better.  Let's be honest, bunnies, this shit aint going to change.  You can't change a horse's colour.

Pictures framing up the past
Your taunting smirk behind the glass
This museum full of ash
Once a tickle, now a rash


This used to be a Funhouse
But now it's full of evil clowns
It's time to start the countdown
I'm gonna burn it down

 I feel so defeated.  I feel so lost.  What exactly have I been believing in and fighting for?  Really?  And why?  And what kicks even harder in the nads of the Rabbit is I have nothing; I have no one.  I don't have Mommie like my brother.  I don't have Daddy like my sister.  I have no one to help me out.  I have a house full of shit and no where to go.

I just got barraged tonight with the antics of an evil clown.  I can't even tell you what crawled up her ass this fucking time, but undoubtedly I am to blame for it.  Yet again.  UGH.  So much annoyed with being the Anti-Christ.  And knowing nothing about it or what is going on.  Over it.  I can't do anything right - no matter how much blood I wipe off the floor - no matter how much shit I wipe off the toilet seat - no matter how many floors I vacuuum or dinners I cook.  Not enough.  Never.  Ever.

Echoes knocking on locked doors
All the laughter from before
I'd rather live out on the street
Than in this haunted memory


I've called the movers, called the maids
We'll try to exorcise this place
Drag my mattress to the yard
Crumble, tumble house of cards

What do I do, y'all???

I'm crawling through the doggy door
My key don't fit my life no more
I'll change the drapes, I'll break the plates
I'll find a new place, burn this fucker down

CAN I even win?

As Janis Says...

"I tell you that one day, man, better be your life, man. Because, you know, you can say, oh man, you can cry about the other 364, man, but you're gonna lose that one day, man... And that's all you've got..."

"...If you got it today you don't want it tomorrow, man, cause you don't need it, cause as a matter of fact, as we discovered in the train, tomorrow never happens, man..."

"It's all the same fucking day, man."

Howling...

I am truly feeling the pull of the Universe on my life lately.  There is an urgent and impending sense of change.  And I want it more than anything.  I am ready for it, yet I am stuck.  I don't know where to turn; what to do.  The last few years have been terribly troublesome.  I have undergone so, so many transitions.  I went from living the high life, though at the time, I was blinded to it.  I was making beaucoup coin, and a good job with so much promise.  Problem was, I was a raging alcoholic.  I lost my job.  I lost my townhouse.  And I made the mistake of moving back to the one black hole of despair that I fought most of my teenage years to get away from.  The drinking escalated even further (and who would have even thought that possible?).  I became a drug addict AGAIN - meth this time.  I had a breakdown.  I literally just fell apart.  I laid on my futon and let the garbage literally pile up.  There for a bit, I really think I lost my mind.  And something in me just broke...

Long story short, it led me back here.  I am not drinking now.  I am clean.  No drugs.  And I am trapped.  There are days when I miss it so badly, just because it made the world go away.  I am clinging desperately to hope.  Hope that things will get better.  Hope that things will change.  I am in such a state that I really just weep some days because I don't know how to fix it.  My physical being is such that I have difficulty standing for more than the briefest of spans of time.  I have nerve damage in my feet now.  It's a pain unlike anything I have ever endured.  And it is constant.  This limits where I might work.  My back is unsurprisingly not getting better all by itself.  There are days when I want nothing more than just to be still...  To not move...  But, yet, even that hurts.  It affects my entire body.  I have arthritis in dang near every part of me.  Simply things like sitting, typing, bathing are often times excruciating.  I could go on.  Migraines.  Ulcers.  And we won't even start with my teeth...  Or my lack there of...  Pain.  Pain.  Pain.  And then I am told - "Just go to the doctor."  Well, having no insurance or income makes those options limited as well.  The clinic only offers appointments on certain days.  I have to take the bus into town to get there. And wouldn't you know, it always falls on the days when it seems a victory to make it to the toilet and back to bed - much less hours away via public transportation...  I can't seem to win.

But despite it all, I really do try to stay positive.  I try to remember that it could be worse.  I am alive.  I am functional (for the most part).  I believe that what you put out, comes back.  Truly.  But I am surrounded by a barrage of negativity from every angle...  It's like a constant attack.  My roommate does not like me very much.  She likes herself even less.  And, I guess, were I her and living her life, I wouldn't either...  But I catch the brunt of it.  It seems she is constantly trying to break me down; keep me beaten.  I get constant snarky remarks thinly disguised as humour, though they never are.  It's blatantly apparent passive agression.  Which, because I recognize for what it is, I am usually able to deal with.  Usually.  But after a while, it does wear you down.  It does break your spirit.  It's so disheartening because when times were good, they were great.  We were once fearless and reckless and ready to take on the world.  I keep hoping it will come back to that.  That one day it will be THAT again.  The queer and the crazy girl.  But now I find it easier to just hope the world will end.  I got an actual compliment - not a back-sided cutesy insult, an actual compliment -  yesterday and it startled me so that I literally dropped my spatula into the eggs I was scrambling.  I mumbled something incoherent because I was just so stunned...

And then, in its own cloud of the negative, there is my family which has become a constant cess pool of drama.  Everyone is ALWAYS fighting with someone else.  And guess who hears all of it from all sides - and gets caught in the crossfire?  Yours truly.  Earlier this year, one sister and my mother weren't speaking.  People were dead to one another.  Absences were felt at the holidays.  Now, it's the other sister.  Petty, bullshit drama.  This family is so attention deficient.  Sooner or later if everyone keeps getting angry with everyone else for not paying enough or the proper attention to them, there will be no one to be angry with anymore!!!  Gonna run out of people to be upset with.  It's exhausting.

So how does one stay positive in the middle of all this?  How, exactly, do you just say "Fuck It!" and stay sane in the midst of all the chaos and funk and drama and physical restrictions???

Is it even possible?  I am beginning to have my doubts.  It seems so much easier to just be as ugly and dramatic and chaotic and negative as all those around me.

But that is not me.  I, in and within myself, am actually a really happy little creature.  I sing all day long.  I dance (well more kind of wiggle stumble) whenever the mood strikes.  I love living colour.  I never used to be this destroyed...

I want that back.  I just don't know how...

Lessons (being) Learned

One of these days, I am going to learn.  I am going to quit doing shit for people.   

Period.

Every God damned time I do - every single time I open a can of worms - it comes back to bite me in the ass...

Those worms have some sharp fuckin' teeth - lemme tell ya! 

And then I, the Dumbass Deluxe, get upset by it. It's my own damn fault.  I need to learn to keep my mouth shut; SHUT THE FUCK UP, and go sit in a corner somewhere...   I either volunteer my services - or concede to a request - knowing full fuckin' well what is about to happen.

They either don't like the (FREE) hair cut.  They don't like the (FREE) garment.  They don't like the (FREE) website.

Get the picture???   

"I don't want to pay for it or anything...  And I don't mind you doing it for free and everything...  But I am going to nit-pick the fucking hell out of it in the mean-fucking-time...  Thanks."

And then, nine times out of ten, I have wasted my own FUCKING time and energy because though go along and FUCK it up by jacking with it when they have not a damned clue one what they are doing...

Done.  Done.  Done.   The can opener is in the trash.

I don't have time for this shit.

And I've no one to blame but myself.

Go fucking figure.

How not to write a recipe...

This was a submission I received a while back while compiling ideas for my recipe book.  I wonder if anyone told him it's not wise to smoke your shoes...  [Bracketed text is my responses.]

Apple Cookies

1 pkg of refrigerated sugar cookie dough (20 oz)
1 granny smith apple

Preheat oven to 350* Put sugar cookie dough in freezer for 1 hour. Remove wrapping from the dough. 

[Thanks! I would have never thought to remove the package. So often I love to chew on plastic!!!]

Cut into 22 thing slices.  

[I'm not sure what a thing slice is, but I'll give it a whirl!]

Arrange the slices in a circle  

[Why ??? Because it's pretty?]

about 1/2" from the edge of your pan (or baking stone if you have one). Slices should touch each other.  

[Because everyone needs to be touched.]

Make another row of slices inside the first leaving the center open. Peel, core and slice the apple and then cute the rings in half.  

[Yes!!! Because we can't have ugly rings! Damn it! Cute those fuckers! Now!]

Arrange slices in two circles on dough pressing the ends in slightly. Combine ingredients for topping and sprinkle over the dough.  

[Topping? Did I miss the topping? Where the fuck's my topping? My unwrapped cute rings are nekkid!!!]

Bake for 25 minutes or until lightly browned.  

[Don't want pasty cookies.]

Immediately loosen from the pan and allow to cool for 10 minutes before serving.

If only there WERE a button...

Hi, I'm an Asshole (apparently)...

I have learned today - well, over the course of the last couple of weeks, actually - that I could never be a Teacher or Instructor in any way, shape, or form.

I have the patience of a rock and am wound tighter than a hummingbird's asshole.  I don't think short-fused and high-strung even begin to cover it.

I am great at doing it myself and handing it over to someone once it is done - as long as someone does not jack with, alter, or fuck up my hard work after said passing of the baton.

That is when my cute, little, rabbity ears shrink back into my head to be replaced with the horns of a snot-slinging fire-breathing demon.

What I am also NOT good at is explaining it - especially in Lehman's Terms.

I get frustrated.  I get hysterical.  Then my chest hurts. The tension in my shoulder tightens and pulls them up to my ears.  I grind my teeth.  I break another tooth.  It's not cute.

How's that for a visual?  A toothless, wheezing hunchbacked bunny with devil horns...

It's about par.

[Image Source:  Disapproving Rabbits]

Now I know my ABCs...

It's been a suck week (or six) and though I have a bazillion and three blogs bouncing around in my head, nothing seems to want to come out in any coherent fashion.  With trying to find work (that I am physically capable of performing); school chaos (which is FINALLY coming to fruition); fighting with Kiks; trying to help Mimi with her blog; AND trying to maintain my own blog, grow my readership, and acquire advertisers... Woooo-wee, gurrl...

I am about give out..

Then I have Whackbag Wanda from the next apartment over knocking and knocking and knocking on my damned door 37 (literally - no, I am dead serious!) times a day.  It's a wonder I have not gone bat-shit, monkey-fuckin', street-rat crazy...

But anyway...

Someone sent me the following meme.  While I ♥ memes, I hate tagging people with them.  So if you'd like - cut and paste and do your own...  If not, I am sure you know how to roll it and where to stick it.

Enjoy my mindless ramblings...

THE ABCs OF ME

A – ADVOCATE FOR:  Being fucking real.  I hate pretension.  I hate bullshit.  Be you or be gone.

B – BEST FEATURE: What the fuck am I?  A car?  My Glovebox???  Cuz we know it aint my Trunk!

C – COULD DO WITHOUT:  All the bullshit, chaos, and catastrophe that is my life.  (I'm working on it.)

D – DREAMS & DESIRES: Peace - my own.  Not world peace. Not feed the children.  Not cure cancer.  I am not buying the world a fucking Coke.  I just would like a moment.  Just one.  And a nap.

E – ESSENTIAL ITEMS: I've learned that there is truly nothing essential in this life.  Sustenance is important; but most other things are relative.  There's really nothing - besides the obvious - that I couldn't live without.  Things I would miss, sure.  But very little is truly a matter of life and death.

F – FAVORITE PAST TIME:  You mean other than bitching?  I used to love to dance, when I had feel that functioned properly...  Love anything creative... What is the point in doing something if you are not creating and leaving your mark on the world?  I can't stand to just ass the couch and stare at the boob tube...

G – GOOD AT: Usually a great cook; a decent writer; a good listener; and I am terribly entertaining.

H – HAVE NEVER TRIED: Skydiving.  And I want to...badly.

I – IF I HAD A MILLION DOLLARS: You'd never see me again. 

J – JUNKIE FOR: Coffee.  My body FUH-reaks out without caffieine.  Not cute.

K – KINDRED SPIRIT: That's mine.  They know who they are.

L – LITTLE KNOWN FACT: I'm actually terribly, painfully shy.

M – MEMORABLE MOMENT:   Getting a callback for RENT.  Of course my dumb ass went into panic mode and didn't actually GO back - but I got the call, at least...

N – NEVER AGAIN WILL I: fall in love.

O – OCCASIONAL INDULGENCE: I don't indulge in much of anything.  Maybe that's part of my problem.

P – PROFESSION: Mad Hatter; Artist

Q – QUOTE: "Sometimes you meet yourself on the road before you have a chance to learn the appropriate greeting. Faced with your own possibilities, the hard part is knowing a speech is not required. All you have to say is yes." ~ Pearl Cleage

R – REASON TO SMILE: The fact that my fro is finally getting long enough to rock a Baby Moz... 

S – SORRY ABOUT:  not much.  It all leads to where you are.  It's all part of the journey.

T -THINGS THAT ARE WORRYING YOU RIGHT NOW: School and my successes therein.  But this list could go on for days...  I worry to much.  There's a reason I have an ulcer.

U – UNINTERESTED IN:  People, for the most part.  Most make me want to vomit, scream, or stick my head in the oven (preferrably gas).

V – VERY SCARED OF: No comment.  Never tell someone your fears.  It gives them power over you.

W – WORST HABITS: Temper- Temper.  I am a Cajun blooded redhead afterall...

X – X MARKS MY IDEAL VACATION SPOT:  New Orleans.  New Orleans.  New Orleans.  Of course if I ever get back there, it will no longer be a vacay spot because I would never leave again...

Y – YUMMIEST DESSERT:  I have a huge hard-on for cinnamon toast (is that a desert?) - or peach yogurt.

Z – ZODIAC SIGN: Cancer.  Yeah, I'm a crabby ol' bitch.

What are the ABCs of you?