Cooler than You: Stupid Things I Say and Do

The snow falls, daffodils bought last week droop from the mason jar long wilted, dried flowers--from the fall--still stand in another mason jar providing another touch of me in this space as dried bouquets have long intrigued me, the lone orchid stands dying as a reflection of my mood and life as of late, my foot aches in the backdrop, and music no one wants to listen to plays.  Sad songs.  Moods and memories.  In the shower, I notice a new bruise on my shoulder.  I wonder when it came to be, where it came from, and why I didn't see until now.  Did I do that in my sleep? Was it someone on a crowded subway? It's the wrong shoulder for my handbag. I wash my hair and forget about it.  Riddled with aches of Lupus and arthritis I do yoga in my studio.  I can't make it out for a run, as my post-pneumonia lungs are still reminding me of things of I should not do, and pole dance is planned for Friday.  I play mixed songs, of a favorite playlist i...

Last month, in what has become a yearly tradition, I replenished my soul in the Rockies.  Climbs along trails, falls along paths, and miles alone, and one hike with a partner all brought me endless doses of vitamin D and countless moments of elongated breathes and moments that will bounce in my mind's eye for days and years to come.  Sometimes the weather, the gods, and the universe align.  As I've alluded before, the Rockies and Colorado tend to bring out the universe aligning for me.  That being said, along the way I'm reminded of things.  Well, more than just things per se.  A couple of years ago I published one of my favorite pieces.  Yeah, I know . . . I shouldn't play favorites with the writings, so please don't tell the others.  But, my little piece on the transcendence of the soul in Turkey still rings true on many levels.  Even more so, or more of a side note, every time I head to the Mediterranean it turns into a comedic sideshow ...

As life goes, last summer I found myself looking at the heartland's horizon, and this summer I'll be duplicating and extending some of these travels.  And with that, I have thoughts.   Yes, I was in the American Midwest, rolling my economical car forward, with iTunes blaring, and some flavored water at my side.   In a poetic manner of speaking, I woke up and found myself on the road.   Though, as we all know, the realities of life don't afford for that.   Instead, I had spent weeks planning, crafting ideas in the wee hours of insomnia on my Pinterest boards, and I had prepped my car.   I had ample data for my GPS, I had a cooler with bottled water and a couple of sandwiches, I had carrot sticks, and I had a somewhat curated playlist.   What that came down to was my asking friends for road trip songs and adding their suggestions to my questionable music library.   I planned to stop and see some old friends, from college and before, but as...

Since February has been a revertible roll in the hell fires and outright damnation, leaving me with little desire beyond pouring gasoline and lighting a match to it, I deviate from the broken soul, transgressions of life, disasters and other affairs on the sewing machine, and Lifetime Movies via travel to perhaps loose my NOW card.  Okay, really, I probably lost the NOW card ta couple of weeks back when I saw a mouse--in my trash can--and went running to an upstairs neighbor and banged on the door in panic.  To add to that imagery, I was in a pair of well-worn sweats from an alma matter, a pair of Uggs, and since I was home post working hours I was sans bra.  The wife beater, under the hoodie, did not really shield the bounce as I jumped on the bed when my neighbor pulled that mouse out of my house.   Judge me later.   On that note, since it is Leap Day--a damn fictional day that should be an international holiday since what do you do with this day beyond...

I realize that the slow rising realization that my marriage flopped--rather profoundly if I must say--is starting to shock the lot of you.  Though, you should remember that I was single for more than 30 years (near 36) before taking that ill fated trip down the isle.  Seriously, I've moved on, I'm good, I'm happy.  Things went down a year ago.  I'm not going into that now . . .  dramatics and damage of love undone is not something I really care to broadcast for internet harvesting of sorts. None-the-less, we have another serious conversation to have. I know that many of my so-called friends enjoy signing me up for every Republican list serve there is during political season.  Well, this year, it seams these chumps have found a new level of hell.  Republican people meet dot com is apparently a real f-ing dating site.  Dude.  No.  Oh no.  Just hell f-ing no. Last spring I let a couple folks talk me into a brief stint at online d...