why does it feel like i'm the only one who finds the smell of sun-tan lotion erotic?

figures

words jump, dance and run around all silly-like on this page of my life. they are all excited and nervous and aware of everything happening around them. they shiver with anticipation and wonder and their hearts beat a little faster.

they appreciate all the energy and activity and are inspired to create. to reflect what they are feeling. but it's crazy how the things you'd want to write about take up all the time you have TO write about them.

now i remember posts like these ...

Things are really stressed right now. My grandmother was moved yesterday from the hospital to the nursing home. Trouble is... they moved her into the crazy wing. I'm talking straight out of the mother fucking cuckoo's nest. Granted, it was a mistake... but they had to keep her there for the night until they could figure out where to move her to.

My mother is really taking this hard and the house is kind of falling apart. I am really at a loss trying to be there for her. In fact, I don't even know how to be there for myself. I'm scared. I'm scared to see her looking and acting like some tragic, vulnerable, little old woman. That's not my Nonnie. My Nonnie is the caring mother-type figure that was always there for me when my mother couldn't be.

I can't handle her gaping mouth and her bugged out eyes. The memories of her life all being mixed around in her head and spurting out in nonsensical phrases.

I'm working over 60 hours a week between the dating service and the two colorguards. And that's not counting the 2 hours I spend everyday in the car driving back and forth. The trips to the hospital and now nursing home are adding up and I don't even have time to clip my damn broken fingernails.

The drama with the staff at one of the schools is getting out of control. My head pounds just at the thought of dealing with these people. So much for being able to use colorguard as a mental release. Instead I get to worry about petty bullshit that gets in the way of me dong my job.

And I wish I could tell you about the man I met. The late night hours of the last few days have been spent on the phone with him, trying to soak up all the goodness I hear spewing from his mouth. I've gotta tell you if it weren't for him right now... my heart would be so heavy. So tried and heavy with worry about my family and their physical health.

Worry that my grandmother just doesn't know how to let go of this world, instead just suffering and wasting away until she won't even remember it. Worry that my parents won't be around to see me grow up. To see me take on the world and win. To see me meet my match and start the rest of my life with him. Worry that my brother is caught up in this mess worse than I and that he might never get out alive. I'm scared that his heart is closing off already.

The money isn't coming in... the roommates are frustrated with me, I'm sure. It is very humbling to have to admit over and over and over again that you need help and that you can't handle your problems. The friends are distant, but only because I keep them there. I'm just sick of being "that friend" who is always stressed out and hurting.

Someday I will be the person that people look to and admire for having their shit together. Someday. Until then I guess I just have to settle for being the person who tries her damnedest to sort through all the mess.

Keep on marching, soldiers.

Damien Rice: "Cannonball"

There’s still a little bit of your taste in my mouth
There’s still a little bit of you laced with my doubt
It’s still a little hard to say what's going on

There’s still a little bit of your ghost your witness
There’s still a little bit of your face i haven't kissed
You step a little closer each day
That i can’t say what's going on

Stones taught me to fly
Love, it taught me to lie
Life, it taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall
When you float like a cannonball

There’s still a little bit of your song in my ear
There’s still a little bit of your words I long to hear
You step a little closer to me
So close that I can't see what's going on

Stones taught me to fly
Love, it taught me to lie
Life taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall
When you float like a cannon...

Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to cry
So come on courage
Teach me to be shy
'Cause it's not hard to fall
And I don't wanna scare her

It's not hard to fall
And I don't wanna lose
It's not hard to grow
When you know that you just don't know

Today is my grandma’s 94th burfday. She started celebrating it at 3am this morning when she fell trying to get to the bathroom.

My Aunt and Uncle and Cousin all heard the thud of her fragile body banging into her walker, then the desk, and finally the floor. After a half-asleep once over, she appeared to be fine… not counting a cut on her wrist from her watch.

these hospital walls are the palest of white
here in this desert they're reciting my last rites
the smell of these halls
brings temporary comfort
as the oxygen flows through my blood
el corazon was poisoned tonight...
she's on her eight of nine.

When they all woke up again around 7am… things seemed to be okay. Until my grandmother collapsed at the breakfast table. This time she blacked out. Cue 911, Ambulance and Emergency Room.

I got the message at work around noon. Proceeded to freak out when realized mom’s cell phone would be off because of hospital rules and such so had no idea which hospital they were at. Started making phone calls. Found out she was listed as being in Suburban. Took off.

About ¾ of the way there, my mom calls me. She’s at Montgomery General. Ugh. Drive another 45 minutes. Finally get there.

Words cannot describe how frightening she looked. With her teeth out, her cheeks fell in around her mouth. Her tongue was hanging out of her mouth because of the stroke. Not to mention the weakness in the left side of her face. She spasmed and breathed irregularly in her sedated sleep.

when half of all your prayers are insincere,
the other half are lies.
here is this watermark under this bridge.
the point where it all crested,
rolled back and drifted into the sea.
i climb from this wreckage
as the smoke begins to clear from my lungs.
the closest of close calls has happened tonight.

At least she remembered who I was this time, trying to smile at me when fading out of sleep. Six hours later, after being moved to Suburban (she was on list at Suburban in preparation for her transfer… explaining fluke from earlier), she was coming out of her groggy state.

As she realized that she was back in the hospital, not even a month after she had come back home from a 6 week stay in the hospital and nursing home… she held on tight to the strong mask she has been wearing longer than I’ve been alive. But it slipped a little…
Accidentally letting a tear squeeze through and fall down her cheek to the ugly hospital gown.

it's time that i made things right
for the first time,
since the last time.
let this moment of clarity
lift this curse that has been cast upon me.

I kissed her on the nose and told her I loved her. On my way out the door I overheard her asking my mom…

“Was that Elizabeth?”

Unfortunately… my mask let a lot more than one tear slip through.

appreciate the good times,
but don't take the worst for granted.
'cause you only get so many second chances

$17short of my rent.

yep. that's how much my last pay check was for. i'm almost 3 months behind in rent now, and i don't even want to think about utilities that have been fronted for me as well.

i'm a car payment behind. this month i'll have to pay double for my cell phone. oh. and i don't have any food.

both of my colorguards owe me money. and i'm not even talking about payment for this season... i'm talking about reimbursement for things i paid for out of my own pocket. i love the MCPS financial offices. they rule. /sarcasm.

i'm thinking that i should ask my dad to just give me a check for the amount he was going to spend on my new laptop birthday present, and i'll just use it to get out of the red. i have no place getting a new 'puter when i can't even feed myself and buy gas.

you ever feel like you work so damn hard just to end up worse off then when you started?

that's just not right

i guess you could call this my second coming...

let me know what you thought of the story.

refresh my memory.

::sits down::

::pulls hair back::

::flexes fingers::

::picks nose::

::begins to type::

I don’t remember what it’s like to come home and write an amusing post about my shenanigans of the day anymore. I sit and stare at the blank Word Doc and wait for something entertaining to come into view. Lyrics and poetry are really all that just seem to naturally flow anymore.

Really, I’m not trying to be emo about this, but I was just reading some of my archived selves and really miss feeling like I had so much to say.

Do I still have a lot to say? Well… yes. But I don’t see the point in taking the time to say half of it anymore. What, exactly, did typing it all out really do for me?

taking stock

aight. it should come as no surprise that i have been internet retarded for the past... oh, i dunno... 3 months or so. i know. gasp.

this being the case, i have not kept up with any of the pages i read, let alone my own page. this layout isn't even CLOSE to fully functioning.

but i'm lazy and i'm trying to cut the fat here, folks. my readership has fallen drastically, and with good cause. i am aware that it gets taxing visiting a site that isn't supplying new material. so to those of you still representing i thank you.

for those of you that i link... if your URL has changed or anything and you'd like me to update it, leave me a comment. or if there are any of you who have a page that i don't link and you think i should be reading you, let me know.

and lastly, anyone interested in designing a new, much less wordy layout for me... i'm sure EVERYONE would appreciate the interest.

that's all for now i guess. OH. except for you twilight authors. if you don't start posting again (at least once a week), i'm going to cut you. no hard feelings, but i only want to have people who WANT to be involved to be involved. i mean even i have been posting on a fairly regular basis... and that says something.

ok i lied again. there is something else i need. inspiration. writing prompts, subjects, anything that you think might get my juices flowing... cause i'm just all blocked up. lol. ew.

tootles!

i fell in love twice tonight.