The Sixth Minky

The Guy That Wasn't Dan

2011-09-26T18:59:00.001-07:00

Dan Murphy has been one of the best friends I've ever had. That's why I miss him now that he's in Illinois.

I guess I didn't realize how much I missed him until today. I was leaving work and going down the hallway of the Administration Building on campus. When I looked up there was DAN!

OK, it wasn't Dan. It was a guy built like Dan with his hair cut really short, wearing glasses and carrying a skateboard.

My heart actually skipped with joy and I wanted to shout "Dan!" and give him a big hug. Instead, I realized it wasn't Dan and I just smiled and walked on my way.

I miss you, Dan. I am really looking forward to seeing you this Winter!

Why I Cried in "Sucker Punch"

2011-07-28T16:42:00.000-07:00

So…I finally got to see “Sucker Punch” and it made me cry.

Now, you have to understand that I rarely cry about ANYTHING. Sure, movies like “Life is Beautiful” and “Everything is Illuminated” are supposed to make people cry, and I did, but there are numerous times in life that I could have cried over something real or otherwise, but I just don’t cry. Not that I’m callous, I feel things very deeply, I’m just not always good at showing on my face what I feel inside. My brother once said that if someone showed up at my door and offered me a million dollars I’d simply smile and say thanks. While this is an exaggeration, I just try not to let things get to me. (There was a guy in the theatre department who always tried to get me to be embarrassed and it never worked. One day he said, to me, “Would you like to see my penis?” and I just said, “Not right now…maybe later.” He started laughing and said, “I just can’t get to you, can I?”) I believe the reason I am like this comes from when I was little…probably 12ish…I got really mad at my little brother for not helping me with something and the anger I expressed was terrifying to me. I decided at that time that I would NEVER be that kind of person. I feel things very deeply, like I said, but I never want to lose control so I hold on. Anyway, I do express what I feel, it’s just that I’ve learned to control what are usually considered “negative” emotions.

Back to the movie...the entire time I was watching the movie I was wishing that I were petite like the girls in the show. I hate being big…not only tall (basically 6’) but on the big size of things. (Even when I’m the right weight for my body type and height I still weigh 185 lbs—and that’s the weight I’m supposed to be!) I wished throughout the movie that I were 5’5” and 120 lbs and never more. The movie was great with strong women being heroes and taking on all kinds of bad guys. I sat there the entire time wishing I were someone other than me. The movie was a lot of fun and I really enjoyed it. When it ended, its final lines were:

“Who honors those we love with the very life we live? Who sends monsters to kill us, and at the same time sings that we'll never die? Who teaches us what's real, and how to laugh at lies? Who decides why we live, and what we'll die to defend? Who chains us, and who holds the key to set us free? It's you. You have all the weapons you need. Now fight!”

I started crying right there. There are so many things I want to do with my life…so many good things I know I can do…but I’m afraid! How can I possibly take on the world (or even just my part of it)? Who am I that anyone would listen to me? How can I have faith in me when it feels like no one else does? Basically I was crying because of the contradiction I am: I want to do more but I am afraid to try! The light of the world was speaking to me through that movie telling me that I have the weapons I need…I just need to start the fight.

That’s why I cried at “Sucker Punch.”

Cheap Flights (Feck!)

2011-07-24T20:09:00.000-07:00

Mad World-Gary Jules

2011-07-23T10:19:00.001-07:00

Annie Lennox "No More I Love You's

2011-06-09T15:32:00.001-07:00

They Looked Like Strong Hands

2011-02-20T17:13:00.000-08:00

Before going to bed I watched the movie “Pandorum” which wasn’t the most exciting movie but it had a strange effect on my dreams.

I dreamed that I had no hair, pale white skin, and odd lumpy growths all over. (If you watch “Pandorum,” you’ll know why this was in my dream—the rest of my dream is not sci-fi related.) I was trying to save other people who looked like me who were being hunted down and put into camps because we weren’t normal.

In my dream, David Boreanaz (who has become the one who always “rescues” me in dreams like this) was there and he was helping me.

Now, the important part: He was in love with me. Totally in love with everything I was. He didn’t care what I looked like because he loved all the REAL parts of me—the parts I want to be loved for.

I woke up feeling loved for the right reasons. If I could find someone who wants me to be around every day in his future because he can’t imagine a future without me, I would be so happy. I am NOT interested in being loved for what I look like. The truth is, if a guy mentions anything about wanting to be “physical” with me in anyway, I don’t want to date him.

That’s three dreams now in which David Boreanaz has loved me completely because of everything I am and nothing at all because what I look like. My hotness is just a bonus to him.

Does God Exist?

2011-02-17T17:06:00.000-08:00

Life should have more FUN

2011-01-24T07:18:00.000-08:00

Inflitrating the Davidson Culture

2010-12-16T09:41:00.000-08:00

To study a culture it is best to blend in. This way you can move about practically unnoticed to conduct your study. When studying the Davidson family here are some things to bring to the table:

Watch these movies:

“The Burbs” starring Tom Hanks

• “Yo! Rumsfield!”
• “About a 9 on the tension scale there, Rube.”
• “You’ve had that in your trousers all day?!”

“The Fifth Element” starring Bruce Willis:

• “She knows it’s a multipass!”
• “Chicken, good!”
• “Nice hat.” Corbin. “Ya like it!” Robber.
• “Itsa itsa itsa…”

Also, “The Fiddler on the Roof” the original Star Wars Trilogy, Star Trek (old, new, and movies). For the next generation of Davidson’s, you’ll also want to include “Napoleon Dynamite” and “Nacho Libre”

Watch these TV shows:

“Are You Being Served?” It’s important to know what to do when “A glass of water for Mr. Granger!” is shouted from the living room. Also of note are the frequent mentions of Mrs. Slocombe’s pussy.

“Keeping up Appearances”

• “Here I sit, completely surrounded by no beer!”

“All in the Family”

• “But Edith, we ain’t the McNabbs!”
• “I got some of the same blood in me as Katherine Hepburn!”

“M*A*S*H” (Oh so many from M*A*S*H—quoted more often in our household than any of the quotes that Shakespeare has made common in daily communication.)

• “But to cut off a man’s legs and steal his drawers!”
• “You tell ‘im, Ferret face!”
• “Hey, up close you’re a guy.” Flagg. “Far away, too.” Klinger.
• “I wouldn’t marry you for five dollars.”

Family Nicknames

• Sherri –Big Shorty
• Marina—Nunu, Murt
• Albert—Howie
• Jeff—
• Chris—Twid
• Maaike— Moat, Major Iceborg
• Brian—brain, Onslo
• Randy—Roy, Willard

These are just a few of the things you’ll need to know before entering the group. So far I have been most impressed by how Michelle infiltrated the group. Not always knowing the movie references she would randomly throw in some of her own. Confusing the Davidsons for a moment but they were quick to accept her as one of their own.

Please feel free to ask questions during your infiltration process. The Davidsons are quite open-minded to accepting new people and are fairly non-lethal unless provoked to stand up for one of their own.

Silent Monks Singing Halleluia

2010-10-05T20:15:00.000-07:00

Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander

2010-09-07T13:04:00.000-07:00

Sometimes my head gets too full of stuff. Sometimes I think the only way to get it out is to scream or cry or else I'll just go crazy because I can't get the stuff out of my head.

I wait to be rescued but no one comes. No one comes because they don't know I need to be rescued or they don't believe in rescuing the "big" girl. I search for outlets for my brain crowd but no one is available because of their own crowd.

Sometimes I want to scream until someone comes and locks me up. Feeds me jell-o. Gives me crayons and tells me to draw what's frightening me.

Sometimes I want to cry to see if someone, anyone, will come wrap his arms around me and tell me that he is there for me, no matter what.

If I told you I was in pain, would you come to me? Would you have time for me? Sometimes I'd like to find out just who would come to my rescue. But most of the time I just go to sleep...everything will be better in the morning.

Love & Mathematics

2010-09-04T12:29:00.000-07:00

Last night I had two dreams. In the first one I was loved by a king. The king was kind and good to his people and everyone loved him and all the girls wanted to be with him, but he loved me, and was in love with me, and liked everything about me.

In my second dream I was loved by a criminal. Everyone despised him and thought he should be behind bars. But he loved me, and was in love with me, and liked everything about me.

While the King and the Criminal were wildly different in nature the love I felt from both of them was exactly the same. The king loved me. The criminal loved me. I was safe inside of both of their arms and felt their love for me and didn’t doubt it.

Granted…it may have helped that both the King and the Criminal were played by Henry Ian Cusick.

Something to be Scared of...

2010-07-03T21:05:00.000-07:00

Life: I want to live you.

I’ve never been very good at slant rhyme and that seems to be the secret to writing song lyrics. As I listen to songs I can hear them but when I sit here and try to make them up myself I cannot hear it and I cannot create it. I wish I could create.

Life: You scare me.

It’s like singing anyway…my voice is in the alto range but I can’t just hear it unless someone else is also singing alto and sitting near enough to me for me to follow their lead. I cannot sing unless someone shows me the way. I wish I could lead.

Life: Are you my friend?

These small things in life—hearing a note, finding a rhyme—mean nothing to so many people. Why do I worry about them? For the same reason I worry about so many other little things: No one to help with the big things.

(Scared Teddy by droool)

Join me in welcoming the girls!!

2010-05-13T12:03:00.000-07:00

Running on the wheel are Melora and Zoe. They are the dwarf hamsters I just got. Now, behind them you can seen one glowing eye of Queen Schmooquan as she watches them run in their wheel. When I first brought them home she watched the for an hour and a half. I'd never seen her concentrate on anything for that long. It was a riot!

Now the girls are up on a high shelf where the kitty can only watch them from afar. They wake up at night so kitty is quite entertained.

However, the wheel was very squeaky and was keeping me awake, so I fixed it with some WD40. No more squeak.

We four girls are all very happy together.

WWII in a nutshell...

2010-05-03T13:42:00.000-07:00

How To Disappear Completely

2010-04-02T19:41:00.001-07:00

Eva didn’t know how it happened. Actually, she did.

“The secret to survival is to keep denying that you feel it. Deny that you would like to love him. Deny that you would like to be loved by him.” That is how Eva had survived this long.

She found that building defenses was actually easier than she thought. First of all, she found her center—this is what she wanted to guard—she put it in the center of her defenses so that it would be extraordinarily difficult to get to. Once the center was labeled, she started building from there.

She covered her heart with years of self doubt, and low self-esteem. Next she layered it with the insults and rude comments she had been subjected to over her life. Then, subsequent layers were made, in a papier mâché fashion of all the heartbreaks she’d ever experienced…real ones, imaginary ones, and all the unrequited ones that she cried for even if the tears meant nothing to the other party. She even added the ones where the person didn’t even know she existed.

Eva finally achieved what she had hoped for…she was impenetrable. She felt like a superhero. Faced with any opposition, she would rise above it.

And that’s when it happened.

After seeing him around several times, she had a dream that he loved her. And she was so happy. In the morning she thought about him, in the afternoon she told herself to give up, and in the evening she had hope again.

How was she supposed to keep him from coming in when her center was trying to push out toward him? She started to hate herself for her weakness. She tried to find help, but no one understood the lengths Eva had gone to just to build her defenses.

She knew what was coming up…the hopes, the dreams, and then the crash and tears.

Eva didn’t know how it happened. Actually, she did.

The Ghost of an Unkissed Kiss

2010-03-28T18:45:00.000-07:00

There he was…handsome, talented and smiling at me. I couldn’t resist. I had to flirt with him or I would regret it forever. Flashing my best smile and being totally, unabashedly myself, we began our conversation. We talked and laughed and suddenly I realized that my flirting was WORKING. Not only that, it was being RECIPROCATED and he was flirting with me, too. As the conversation went on we started walking with the crowd, and he reached over and suddenly he was holding my hand. Holy crap! Joy filled me in a way I thought was never going to happen again. It was so SO good.

Then I woke up and I thought, “Wow, a part of my brain still believes in love!”

Are You Happy With Your Wash?

2010-03-09T16:35:00.001-08:00

Hello Sixth Minky readers. As you know I have little tablets that I carry around and write things in. I love to write the odd things people say and I write them without the context. It makes me laugh.

Anyway, these quotes have been posted into another blog called "Are You Happy With Your Wash" and can be found at: http://areyouhappywithyourwash.blogspot.com/

You should know that when I quote someone I don't edit their words. If they happily use a "colorful metaphor" I leave it there. Please proceed with caution.

Anyway, enjoy the blog, look for yourself in it, and add comments if you have other great things that someone has said that makes you giggle.

I LOVE this!!

2010-02-23T16:50:00.001-08:00

Love's Not a Competition, But I'm Winning!

2010-02-18T11:27:00.000-08:00

The other day I told my sister that I don’t like love anymore. I really like like. But not love. Mostly because it never turns out for me. But also because of what it does to me...not good things.

Here’s what my mind thinks when I’m in love:

How much weight do I need to lose? If only I were a couple inches shorter! What if I have bad breath? It’s because of all my sinus problems. What if he thinks I'm a hypochondriac? What if he wants me to go to an event that I really hate? What if I hate his family? What if he hates my family? Maybe I should grow my hair out…maybe I should cut it. Dye it different colors. Am I asking too much of him? Does he want more of my time? Will he be upset if I ask for my own time and space? What if he isn't strong enough to help me with my depression? What if he thinks depression is something I can "snap out" of? Etc, etc.

Here’s what my mind thinks when I’m not in love:

Mmmm…I really love Dr. Pepper.

Besides all of that, I also get very jealous because I’ve never been in a relationship where I was secure in what the guy was feeling for me. He’d have to be very careful and never make me jealous on purpose. For example…I’ve been “over” my friend for a while but every time he mentions going on a date I still have a little pang of hurt run through me. I don’t like it. Neither does he.

So, it is true. I don’t like love anymore. Love never works. Like is good enough for me.

Andrea Bocelli and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir

2010-02-10T13:08:00.000-08:00

I am a fan of Andrea Bocelli!

Shut Up! I Am Dreaming of Places Where Lovers Have Wings!

2010-01-25T22:40:00.000-08:00

There are several reasons why I want to marry the man in this photo.

1. His hair is sheer madness.

How can I resist a man who doesn't give a rat's hat about his coiffure?

2. The look on his face.

Don't tell me I can't go beyond this point. I'll damn well go beyond this point if I want to!

3. Look at those lips.

I love full lips. Not like Frank Burns the lipless wonder.

4. His eyes are deep blue.

This photo they look brown...believe me...deep blue. I love looking into blue eyes. To me they are the most expressive eyes.

5. He's Misha Collins.

Yes, my current Hollywood crush. And, on Supernatural he's an angel...so he does have wings.

A different L-Y song

2010-01-25T09:03:00.000-08:00

This isn't the one I grew up with, but it's still the right song!

The Alligator King

2010-01-25T08:51:00.000-08:00

I loved this as a kid...now if only I could find the "l-y" song!

The Clockwise Witness

2010-01-16T20:05:00.000-08:00

So, I was thinking the other day of some random people I’d like to thank. However, I can’t thank you because I don’t know where you are. Or in some cases I don’t remember your name or even knew your name in the first place. I’m going to write about you on my blog and maybe someone, somewhere knows who you are and can pass it on. Here goes:

Larry Colson: Thank you for sitting by me on the bus. You made me feel important and that’s a great thing for a 7th grade girl!

Richard Keller: Thank you for telling me I’m pretty. I needed that in high school…heck I still need it now.

Richard my 2nd grade boyfriend: You’re the only real boyfriend I’ve ever had, which is a sad commentary on my adult life. I remember you with fondness.

The guy at the 9th grade dance: You said to me, “I thought a girl like you would be asked to dance every dance!” My brain doesn’t let me remember who you are, but your words have sustained me many, many times.

Hispanic guy at DI: One of the best compliments of my life was given in your broken English. I’ll never forget you smiling and saying to me, “Big Sister! Grande! Beautiful!”

Garrett Coffee: I’ve lost contact with you…you were a friend to me at an important time and I’ll never forget your testimony and your friendship at the MTC.

Drew the 8 year old (who would be close to 23 years old now!): You gave me a valentine. You were eight. I was twenty-five. I still have it.

Kathy Peterson: I crashed on my bike in front of your house when I was about eight. You took me into your house, cleaned out the wounds and gave me band-aids and a glass of water.

You were all in my thoughts the other day. I was thinking about how many acts of kindness are done around me and for me and to me. You are in my memories and I love you for who you are. To those who may read this, please always take the time to thank people for what they do. People come and go in our lives the best thing is to let them know how much they mean to us when they are in our lives! If you love someone, tell them. Don’t search for the right words, the right words already exist: I love you.

Me, Steve, Kirk and Keith

2010-01-12T19:54:00.000-08:00

Last night I had a dream that I was a monkey. Actually, everyone in my dream was a monkey. Only we still looked like humans. But we were monkeys. And we were bank robbers. We were planning our latest heist and dressing up in blue mechanics overalls when the police broke in to arrest us all. I hid in a closet and got ready to kick the first person who opened the door. He opened. I kicked. I missed. And got arrested.

On the way to the jail we broke loose and ran. We found the mysterious underwater sea gorilla (who actually was a black gorilla instead of a person who thought they were a gorilla) and genuflected as a subservient monkey should.

Then my cat woke me up. I said, “uh-huh” and she said, “meow-meow.” That was the end of my glorious career as a bank-robbing monkey.

The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows

2010-01-05T00:45:00.001-08:00

Somewhere I read that it is not our weaknesses that frighten us, but our strengths.

What a silly thing to fear. Why would I be afraid of what I can accomplish?

Tonight, however, I discovered that I am hiding from my strengths.

I am strong enough to live a life as a single woman. I just don’t want to. But what if it is some sort of calling for me to be an example of single-strength? Still, I don’t want it. Wouldn't it be better if there were someone beside me to encourage me to go forward? Why must I be my own (and often only) cheering section?

I am strong enough to have a great career, but I’m happy to live—as the vast majority—in mediocrity. I’m comfortable there. Why put in any greater effort? Besides, the saying goes that we are inevitably raised to our level of incompetency. What if I reach that level and realize that I am a great nothing? I can get the degree I want, and I can find a job that will allow me to accomplish what I've been dreaming. But what if I try really hard and people laugh at me? What if I put in great effort and am still rejected by those I so want to impress?

I am strong enough to make changes in the world, but what if I put all that effort into it and no one notices?

Strength to be. Strength to achieve. Strength to help others.

Why am I so afraid to try?

Why Can't Mormons Send Flowers

2010-01-03T15:47:00.000-08:00

Niles Crane Irons His Pants

2010-01-03T15:15:00.000-08:00

So, this makes me laugh...

2010-01-03T15:14:00.000-08:00

Symptoms of a Leveling Spirit (or Angels and Bad Guys)

2009-12-20T20:52:00.000-08:00

Since my real life crush moved far away, I’ve been spending time with my celebrity crushes.

Misha Collins plays Castiel on Supernatural. Castiel is an arch angel. He is trying to help save the world from Satan and his demons.

Michael Emerson plays Benjamin Linus on LOST. Ben is the bad guy of the show. (Or is he? I have theories.)

How is it that I can be in love with both an angel and a bad guy? Well, as one of my favorite Walt Whitman quotes goes:

Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself. I am vast. I contain multitudes.

There are things that the characters have in common; blue eyes for one. I’m a sucker for blue eyes. Then there’s this: They both have a certain sadness in their characters, a conflict within themselves that seems to make them so vulnerable. This is what draws me to them.

It’s fun having celebrity crushes. It can also be as sad as real ones. I find an actor that I love then decide to watch other movies that actor has been in and realize that it’s the character that I fell for, not the actor. I’d love to watch more from these actors, but I’m afraid to learn more about them in case the fantasy get shattered.

So here I sit in love with an angel and a bad guy.

This little poem...

2009-12-14T11:20:00.000-08:00

This little poem has been a favorite of mine for a very long time I don't know who wrote it:

I wish I were a glow worm
A glow worm's never glum.

Cuz' how can you be grumpy,
When the sun shines out your bum?

Have a Happy day!

Muppets: Bohemian Rhapsody

2009-12-14T11:17:00.000-08:00

Surprised Kitty Makes Me Laugh

2009-12-06T06:37:00.000-08:00

Birthday Eulogy Winner

2009-11-28T20:41:00.000-08:00

This is me being 40. I don't have my glasses on. They were sucked into a wormhole. (Dan is laughing the rest of you have no idea what I'm talking about. But you're probably used to that.)

Thank you to my birthday eulogy contest entrants! You helped make my birthday GREAT! Thanks to Christina C. (who made me laugh SO HARD), David A. (Thanks, Dav!), Emily H. (Beautiful woman!), Kara Davidson (no relation) and my family member entries: Brian and Michelle.

The winner was Danny Mildew who wrote and recorded a pop punk song:

Maaike Davidson (R.I.P.)
by Dan Murphy

She was the beautiful, talented, Maaike Davidson
She was generous, hilarious, one of my best friends
She made me feel like a million bucks
Even though I really suck
Maaike Davidson

She loved making crafts, writing plays, Maaike Davidson
She loved action flicks and science fiction, British pop rock songs
She really was one helluva teacher
You really missed out if you didn't meet her
Maaike Davidson

She wanted to go to Borneo to save the orangutans
She wanted to be a monkey when she finally grew up one day
Her dad was from Holland
Her mom she was callin'
And now she gets to be with them
In the great beyond
Where she has gone
Maaike Davidson

She was the beautiful, talented, Maaike Davidson
She was generous, hilarious, one of my best friends
I hope that she now rests in peace
With all her favorite celebrities
Maaike Davidson

When I catch myself singing it, it fills me with self esteem!! I love singing to myself that I am beautiful and talented. Thanks to those who voted: "Stache," Marie, Beth, Lewie, Kylie, Ted, Hyrum, Kara D., Kara S., Logan, Nicole, and Emily. And a special thanks to everyone who made my birthday such a fun and memorable one!! I love you all!!

40...where is thy sting?

2009-11-09T13:44:00.001-08:00

Today is my 40th birthday. Guess what...it ROCKS!! I thought I'd hate turning 40, but I'm having an amazingly good day. What makes the difference? Good friends, good family, and learning to laugh.

I've gotten tons of well-wishes on Facebook, through emails, and text messages. I woke up to a bunch of chocolate chip cookies and two big ones made into a 40 for me. (With a note that it's perfectly acceptable to eat cookies for breakfast on a birthday.) I've gotten random presents (bunny ears, a Queers pin, a magazine for making crafts, and some always welcome cash!) beautiful and funny cards, and a bevy of eulogies.

Tonight friends who are in town will drop by for a cupcake. They get to vote on the eulogies I've received and the winner gets a prize. Then I'll collect them all into a zine and send them out for everyone to read.

I was so sure that 40 was going to suck. But it doesn't. I'm happier than I have been in a while; I know what direction my life is going in. I'm happy as myself.

It took me a few years to get here...but I'm more aware of who I am than I have ever been.

I like it.

Ballad of the Lonely Argonaut

2009-11-01T17:02:00.000-08:00

So...I've decided to go for a doctorate degree.

First step, paperwork.
Second step, GRE.
Third step, interviews.

I'm on the paperwork part, hunting down who gets what. Then I've got to find my three references and go to a few meetings to get to know some people.

My GRE is scheduled for January 7th. I hope I only have to take it once. (Amazon is sending me a book that Dan recommended for me.)

Ok, I'll keep you all up dated. I guess if I know what's happening it's only fair to let you know.

All Hail Queen Schmooquan!!

2009-10-18T19:09:00.001-07:00

Please welcome Queen Schmooquan!!

This is the kitty I got from the Humane Society. She is a little kitty with big eyes and big paws.

Her name at the Humane Society was Dione but I changed it to Queen Schmooquan--or Schmoo--for short. (I got the name from one of Goat Girl's other pseudonyms. I love her song "What do you think of me?" and I was singing it as I drove around town that day. Then I thought that Queen Schmooquan would make a great name for a cat.)

Anyway, this is the first pet that's all mine. I've never had my own pet before! I grew up with tons of family pets, but she is my first own kitty!! This morning I realized just how much I love this new kitty. And guess what...I think she loves me too!

The Grave by Susan Enan

2009-09-27T20:42:00.001-07:00

All of your work won’t fit in the earth
When you’re lying underground in the grave
Whatever a man in your balance can
There’s nothing you can buy in the grave

In the next age no stock exchange
Is gonna pass on the money we made
No lottery wins, political spins,
When were lying underground in the grave

New surgery defies gravity
But it all falls away in the grave
And who’s gonna care what color you wear
There’s no fashion show in the grave

So swallow it down
No easy way round
Just a hill for the thrills that we crave
But no medicine to stop kingdom come
It’s your time get in line for the grave

And we’ll all be the same
And we’ll go as we came
Side by side as we lie in the grave
We’ll all be the same
We’ll go as we came
Side by side as we lie in the grave.

In The Throes of Giving Up

2009-09-25T20:22:00.001-07:00

Want to break free but don’t remember how—can’t remember the steps. Gave everything away last time and have no energy left to pour into a new friendship.

So tired. Don’t think anyone understands. SO tired.

Sitting here crying out for someone to talk with…but there isn’t anyone. Nobody strong enough I suppose. There are a few I could call on, but none really willing to listen. None willing to really listen…they all looked like strong enough hands in the beginning. Suppose I could find a professional to listen. But then what? What about the next time? Eighty bucks a shot for a listening ear? Isn’t that what we make friends for in the first place?

Can’t make new friends. Too tired. So many years of making new friends and so many years of watching them slowly walk away. Not their faults…life moves on for them. So jealous of that. Their lives move on.

So tired. I’m just so tired.

My New Hollywood Crush

2009-09-16T21:24:00.001-07:00

This is Misha Collins. He plays Castiel on "Supernatural." He is my new Hollywood crush. I don't have a "real life" crush.

The blue shirt picture is Misha, and then the other one is him in character as Castiel.

I think I'm in love with Castiel because I like damaged guys. Why not, monkey likes monkey company. But I do have to say: mmmmm.

The White Trash Period of My Life

2009-09-06T14:19:00.000-07:00

Many people have phobias. I have many phobias. One of them is bugs. I HATE bugs. Ladybugs are okay. And an ant...but not ants. Not a madhouse of ants moving to a new place. Blech.

So, I was getting bitten by something as I was sleeping. Lots of itchy, red bites. Ever since I was a little kid whenever I got bit by something the bites end up as huge red welts. Anyway, I was going crazy. Literally.

One night I felt something crawling. I grabbed a sandwich bag and captured the culprit. I looked at him and then I looked him up on line. He looked like an honest to goodness bedbug. I was so GROSSED OUT! While I was online I ordered a kit that kills bedbugs and prevents them from returning. Then I slept on the couch.

The next day I got rid of my bed. I put it out to the trash. (I had another bed already, luckily because I was too poor to buy a new bed.) I bought some bug killer and sprayed EVERYTHING. Then I washed every bit of bedding, even stuff that was up in my closet. I bug sprayed the floor, the walls, and my chair. Anything fabric either got washed or sprayed.

I slept with my window closed so nothing could come in (and by the way, it was hella hot!) and I've rearranged my room so that my bed isn't even in the same place it was to begin with.

A few phone calls to Mom to help me calm down. A few worries that the remaining bites were psychosomatic because I'm a pro at stressing and I do that kind of stuff to myself. I had to stay home one day because my brain wouldn't let go of the itch or the fear.

The bedbug killer kit arrived and I went at it again. Spraying, washing, cleaning. Fearing.

Last night, there were no new bites on me. I think it's over.

All because of ONE bug.

Love Advice from Johnny Depp

2009-08-22T20:09:00.000-07:00

Last night I dreamt I was lying under a pool table leaning on Johnny Depp. We were just talking and he was telling me about all the mistakes he made in his search for love. He gave me great advice...just what I needed to hear. He gave me a big hug and then I left.

I was going to put some of the great advice into action but I was startled by three men wearing kilts and fell off the balcony into the orchestra.

If only he'd given me advice on not falling from balconies.

Confessions of a Futon Revolutionist

2009-08-04T18:21:00.001-07:00

Yesterday Beth and I sold the entertainment center. As we looked around the living room, this is what the apartment holds: A couch (hide-a-bed), a loveseat, a chair, a tv table and a hope chest. If you look into the kitchen we also have a table with four chairs.

The furniture has cost us a total of $10.00.

I love dumpster diving!!!

A Distorted Reality is now a Necessity

2009-07-28T20:34:00.001-07:00

Dan has moved away. He’s not all the way away, but he’s on the road. That counts.

He taught me to keep plants alive and to love growing veggies and herbs.
He taught me about pop-punk music and how to be a DJ although I’m still chicken to talk into the microphone.
He taught me to skateboard.
He taught me to let go of some of the old things I’d been holding on to.
He taught me to voice some doubts about life because there may be others who need someone to say it.
He gave me his time, his laughter, his love.

Thank you my friend. Good Luck. And, to quote the 80’s band Simple Minds: Don’t you forget about me…

The Return of the Grievous Angel

2009-07-17T08:12:00.000-07:00

The joy in your voice was nothing compared to that of your eyes. Dark eyes I'd seen filled with tears that you were never ashamed of, now filled with such happiness as I'd never seen in you before.

You described her dark hair and beautiful eyes with more clarity than I'd ever heard you speak. You didn't search for words, they were all right there at your brilliant disposal.

Caught completely unaware by the fact that you still have power to break my heart, I listened and forced a smile on my face. Concentrating completely on keeping the tears from my eyes I responded positively to your earnest happiness.

Your happiness was, after all, my greatest desire.

WAKE TO BELIEVE by Liz Durrett

Round, round goes the clock
My panic sounds like tick-tock
Night, oh night, move on
Your clutch is much too strong

Go ten hungry hawks
Around our heads just as my thoughts
Dive down, down, down, down
I call and call and call them off
Then wake to believe
They're all inside, inside of me
Each beat of their wings
Is all inside me

Mind, mind let me go
Your prison is all I'll know
Shroud, oh shroud please fall
Just cover and cloak it all

Go ten hungry hawks
Around our heads just as my thoughts
Dive down, down, down, down
I call and call and call them off
Then wake to believe
They're all inside, inside of me
Each beat of their wings
Is all inside me
Round, round goes the clock

A Short History of Nearly Nothing

2009-07-10T21:45:00.001-07:00

Why can't all of our decisions be between good and evil? It would be so much easier to choose. Should I tell the truth and let world peace reign or should I lie and watch the fires burn? See, easy.

Mostly our decisions are things like: Should I go to the concert with Dan or should I stay home and work on crafts. That's not an earth-shattering decision but it was one that took me ALL DAY to decide.

"Why?" you ask. Because of so many things 1) Dan is leaving and I want to spent as much time with him as I can BUT 2) I don't like live concerts because it makes my brain scream (because of my ear problems) BUT 3) I've ditched him so many times that I hate to ditch him again, BUT 4) I'm not really interested in the band. BUT 5) Soon I won't be invited by Dan to anything because we'll be in different states, BUT 6) I've had a hella long week.

It goes on.

Finally I decided to stay home, so I called Dan and told him. Then I spent the next hour wondering if I made a good decision and if I should change my mind and meet him at the concert.

This is a daily occurrence with me. I feel like those little kids who don't want to go to bed because they're afraid they're going to miss something but the adults just do boring stuff. Decisions are hard for me. Just ask Dan about when he asked me to go camping.

Where Is My Mind

2009-06-29T11:28:00.000-07:00

(Image by Loretta Lux)

Sometimes we fight, my brain and I. Such a dichotomy between what I want to do versus what I am able to do because my mind won't let me go. Every detail of every day has a fight.

Does any one understand what it's like to have to fight your brain to get up out of bed? To have a desire to continue? To even want to face life?

This doesn't mean that there aren't things that bring me joy...it just means that I have to FIGHT my brain to do those things. Do you know what it's like to have to fight with yourself to do something you LIKE to do?

Everyday I have to fight a battle with my brain. Every morning I have to make myself get up and go. Every single day. No wonder I'm tired. No wonder I dream of finding a quietness that never ends. No wonder I don't care who comes or goes because no one really understands.

I am so tired of fighting this battle. Can't anyone step in and fight it for me?

Or at least with me?

Jesus the Mexican Boy Gave Me a Ride on the Back of His Bike

2009-06-27T18:52:00.001-07:00

You never know when you might be someone's hero. You never know who might need you that day. You never know how many peoples' hearts cry out to be rescued--and you could be their savior.

Yesterday the sunshine warmed the blacktop into bubbling tar. My feet ached from the heat and I felt that it would be impossible for me to go on. My mind wandered in to realms of giving up, calling it quits, just lying down and letting nature do its worse.

My eyes closed and I longed for the comfort of the forever-rest. Suddenly a shadow came past my aching eyelids. I slowly opened my eyes. There was a boy with dark skin. He smiled and, pouring some water into his hand, offered me a drink. Then he picked me up and put me on the back of his bicycle.

Now I follow him wherever he goes.

Flying to Montreal

2009-05-20T08:38:00.000-07:00

The last several entries have had a theme--they are song titles and/or lyrics that I found particularly inspiring. This entry, however, is about a dream I had last night. It just goes to prove that no matter how creative I like to think my conscious mind is, my subconscious is far far more interesting.

I was on a tour of a very boring building. We were throwing CD's into the swimming pool and then trying to hit them with other CD's. The tour moved on and I found my friend Dan DJing a show in a kiosk. He came out of the booth and we sat on the floor. Neither of us were wearing shoes. As we sat next to each other, we discovered that if Dan put his foot on mine, we'd move around and around the kiosk like a record. No effort on our part, we just slid across the floor. After a while we both laid down on our stomachs on the floor, still touching feet and we started to fly.

We flew around the city for a bit, getting used to navagating. We discovered that if we put an arm around the other we could go faster and fly smoother. So, we flew to Montreal. It didn't take us long to get there. The first thing we did was scare the crap out of a French-Canadian begging for money on the street. (We may have scared him sober for the rest of his life.) We flew around and discovered big pink fluffy clouds. Then, we decided we'd better head home.

On the way out of Montreal we had to stop at a tourist thing and they wanted us to take a bus home. They made us enter this building and Dan was mad because he knew it would take a lot longer to go home in the bus than if we just flew back. Anyway, while waiting I found the best hat with a monkey on it (and the hat came with a pair of goggles!!) so I was buying it and the guy gave me a hot dog. Well, I didn't want the hot dog and Dan's a vegetarian so I held an auction to sell it. It went for $100,002.00 Now, that's a hot dog!

Finally I got my hat, Dan tricked this guy in to opening a window and we flew away. Dan and I had so much fun flying and talking. We saw the world from a different perspective, we laughed, we talked, and we thouroughly enjoyed each other's company.

We could only fly because we held on to each other.

Dan, you're a great friend. I love you very much. Thanks for helping me to fly.

So, You're a Touring Band Now...

2009-05-12T21:14:00.000-07:00

I always said that if I had children I'd dress them in lederhosen. I guess Dad didn't believe me. When we walked in to his house, he looked at the kids, then at me. I was so proud of my kids, they carried their instruments so carefully. Dad watched them for a moment and smiled. "What's all this then?" he asked.

My five year old chimed in and said, "We're gonna wear these again on Halloween and go as 'The Sound of Music'."

"So," Dad said with a laughing nod of his head, "Should I invest in college savings funds or therapy for the children?"

"You know me, Dad." I said.

"Therapy it is," he answered.

(PS: I don't have kids. This is just a story.)

I Wrote a Song About Your Car

2009-04-28T10:14:00.000-07:00

This Entry Dedicated to Brian. And I think I know who you are.

A blue beast rolling down the road making a rumble to rival Armageddon. Don’t need a key to turn it on. You can even leave it running and take the key with you if you want. If you honk the horn the windshield wipers will move.

Look underneath. Not the hood, but underneath the car. It’s held together by reshaped metal coat hangers. Each wire tenuously holding some vital part into place.

Bring blankets with you in the cold because the beast will take the entire drive to warm up. Oh, and just run with the traffic because the speedometer doesn’t work. Well, it occasionally works. It will pop up to tell you how fast you’re going and then it will sink back down to zero and stay there until it gets the whim to tell you again. The car runs. It does. Despite its name: nova. In Spanish, No va: Doesn’t go.

I wrote a song about your car. But I don’t remember the lyrics anymore. But I guess when you get a car for free you can’t really expect much of a song.

Who else but my brother and I are going to save the world from sunshine?

2009-04-24T10:54:00.000-07:00

The clouds are alive. I’ve never seen anything like it before. I stand in awe of Nature, her power, her beauty, and her cruelty. There is nothing so totally lacking in prejudice than Nature. She will rain on the rich and the poor. She will give sunshine to black and to white. And finally, she will take it all away with one breath.

My brother and I stand on the edge of the high cement fence and watch as the clouds turn from grey to green. We shout out to those walking by to run for cover. We have no need for cover, my brother and I, we are made of different fabric. We are the dark that dwells deep and runs rampant through it all. We have no control over nature, but where it comes to destroy we will be there.

Mudslides bringing down million dollar homes. Tornadoes running through poor trailer parks. Earthquakes giving terror to all, shaking, cracking, tearing down what men think they have permanently erected.

It’s been so long that we’ve stood and shouted that I’ve even forgotten my brother’s name. I’ve even forgotten if he’s my brother by birth or by destiny. Look into the darkening sky, feel the nothingness that is you. Who else but my brother and I are going to save the world from sunshine?

Hammer Without a Master

2009-04-23T21:29:00.000-07:00

Potential energy,right? The power something possesses while it just sits there waiting to be used. The sound of it is powerful: potential energy.

I am the epitome of potential energy. I can build worlds. I can make boys into men. I can teach girls to be strong! I can!

No one wants me. Here I am composed entirely of potential, but no one will take me into his hands. No one will discover that which I am capable of.

Potential energy. I sit here. I age. I rust. Potential energy crumbles into uselessness.

Matriarch on a Vespa

2009-04-22T10:27:00.001-07:00

Estelle knows exactly what she has to do. She walks into her spacious closet, opens the secret drawer, and proudly puts in her no-nonsense teeth. Adjusting her knee-highs, she steps out of her room and into the kitchen. She grabs the heavy-laden box of her precious goods and steps onto the sidewalk and into the bright sunlight of that hot July day. Tucking the box into her bright red purse, she walks the counted steps to her beloved bike and climbs on board. To hell with daintiness, this was a time for action.

This bike has wings. Estelle never felt more alive than she did with the bike humming beneath her. She punches it and is off into the traffic. Zigzagging with years of expertise, Estelle never misses an opportunity. She knows the streets like the back of her hand and has successfully gotten out of every speeding ticket she’d ever been pulled over for.

Time is of the essence now. Every second counts. She speeds past a semi then quickly darts in front of it to avoid a blue SUV. From there she pours on the speed. The miles go by quickly: seven, six, five, a big lazy turn, four, three, slowing to leave the highway, into the lunchtime traffic. Two miles to go through corporate zombies driving Beemers and Mercedes on their lunch hours. They hardly look up as Estelle gracefully passes through and around them.

One mile to go, her target in sight. No traffic, green light. Estelle is free. She and her bike become one and she glows with pride. Pulling into the parking lot she switches off her bike, and strolls into the building. She has arrived and delivers the goods just in the nick of time.

Estelle's marble fudge is a staple at the church bake sale--the congregation would be lost without it. Thank God for that bike and its speed.

Maaike's Needs

2009-04-14T06:53:00.000-07:00

So, what you do is Google your name with "needs" (i.e. Maaike needs) then post the top ten. I had to Google, Yahoo, and Ask to get enough different ones, but you might have an easier time. The need comes first, and then my comments. Here goes:

Maaike Needs

1. Maaike needed work experience in something other than art. (I have work experience in other things, now what I need is a JOB!)

2. Maaike needs a home! (Do you have one for me?)

3. If you marry a Scotsman, Maaike, you’ll need to be the hunter/gatherer as well as the cook. (I'm game as long as he has that awesome accent!!)

4. Maaike doesn’t need much. (But I'd like a couple million dollars)

5. Maaike needs to adjust her image. (Or buy a mirror that lies)

6. Maaike needs to seek explanations. (Or do others need explanations from me?)

7. Maaike needs a hug (that came from my own blog!)

8. Other than that I’ve just been trying to stay on top of Maaike’s needs. (Who? No one's been helping me!)

9. Maaike needs very little intervention. (Oh boy did they get THAT wrong!)

10. To calculate your compatibility with Maaike you need to enter your birthday. (and your height and bank account balance.)

Minky Updates...

2009-04-10T19:33:00.001-07:00

Hello! Since Camille wanted some updates, here's the latest in the land of Me:

Eustachian tube disorder (ETD):

The Eustachian tube is a hollow structure of bone and cartilage that extends from the middle ear to the rear of the throat. Because of a lifetime of sinus problems (and problems with my left ear) I am now the proud owner of this disorder. Here's what they say about fixing it:

Your ETD may be something that you were born with, or it may be caused by tissue inflammation. The problem may or may not be correctable. A diligent ear, nose and throat specialist (ENT) could take a number of approaches to try to correct the problem, but there are no guarantees of success.

So, at least I've got that going for me.

Babysitting a cat:

This is Kuzya. He belongs to a family from Russia. Right now the Mom and the kids are in Russia visiting their grandparents. The Dad is here at UI but is traveling most of the time and then will be joining his family. So, I'm babysitting. Kuzya is very mellow and very sweet. He was sleeping under my bed just purring away. I'm glad he seems to like it here.

When the family takes him home on October 1st I'll have to go out and get a cat of my very own. Maybe even a Russian Blue like I've wanted for a while!

And finally:

My seeds are growing! I've planted tomatoes, jalapenos, mini cantaloupes, lavender, lemon balm, strawberries, and chamomile (in the photo). Dan also gave me two small spinach plants.

It's fun watching them grow.

So, that's what I've been up to. I mean, other than school, church, my two jobs, etc., etc.

Thanks for listening...and, Camille, thanks for being curious!! I love it!

I don't like Burger King, but this CRACKS ME UP!

2009-04-08T21:25:00.000-07:00

The Spooky Sofa

2009-04-07T20:25:00.001-07:00

A True Tale by Maaike Davidson

It is a dark and stormy night…as it ought to have been. The thunderclaps rumble through the air with tangible force.

The sofa lurks in the middle of the living room. Its dark green surface shudders under the flashes of lightning making the paisley patterns cut into the fabric look like sinister smiles.

Other furniture around the room stands at a distance from those smiles. Smiles without eyes. Each bolt of lightning makes the gossamer curtains shine like neon enshrouding the sofa in a swath of eerie light. Paisley smiles laugh at the thunder.

Rain smashes against the windows tittering like imps bringing a sense of fear to the candelabra as it sits on the piano. A loud clap of thunder causes the crystals in the chandelier hanging from the ceiling to add their sounds to the din.

The rug underneath the sofa hugs close to the floor for security. It hates having to bear the weight of the green smiling creature atop it.

Wind howls. Lightning flashes. Thunder crashes. Rain tells its tales to the glass of the windows. Amidst it all stands the spooky sofa. It revels in this weather.

I Was Very Brave.

2009-03-05T18:03:00.000-08:00

Be brave. Even if you're not, pretend to be. No one can tell the difference.

"A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave." Mahatma Gandhi

We All Need a Little VALIDATION

2009-02-24T19:36:00.000-08:00

And now...river dancing chimps

2009-02-16T16:32:00.001-08:00

Old Ladies and Motorcycles

2009-02-16T16:29:00.000-08:00

Another GREAT commercial. It's one of Kylie's favorites!

I Nearly Forgot

2009-02-14T22:07:00.000-08:00

Happy Valentine's Day.
There was a Massacre for a reason.

This Makes Me Laugh

2009-02-11T20:13:00.000-08:00

This is a GREAT commercial. Every time I see it I giggle!!

A Hug is Like a Spiritual Heimlich!

2009-01-25T14:14:00.000-08:00

I believe in the healing power of a hug! Never be afraid to hug those you love...or those who just really need it! HUG!!

My Two Daniels

2009-01-21T16:49:00.000-08:00

(Daniel: Green Lantern)
(Daniel: Batman)

The first week of January was terrible. Every one of my plans fell apart, my body ached because of illness and heartbreak, my mind whirled over lost hopes and my spirit longed for quiet solitude. I was lost.

Slowly, ever so slowly, life started to come into focus so I could handle it again without total collapse.

Then finally this week I feel it has turned around and things are starting to look up again. For example, I bought a lottery ticket on Monday and then, that evening as I read my homework from a used book I bought on line, I was showered with four-leaf clovers. They rained down on me and filled me with joy...and hope that it means I'll win the lottery with my one ticket.

Then, to add to my joy I had dreams of both of my two best guy friends in the whole world--they are both called Daniel.

My first Daniel is a Vegetarian, Gemini, Tall, Dark, and Handsome and lives in England. (To avoid confusion for the rest of this story I’ll call him “Batman.” (Not because he’s a crime fighter, but because he has such strong toes he can actually hang upside down from them like a bat.))

My next Daniel is a Vegetarian, Gemini, Tall, Dark, and Handsome and lives here in Moscow—until he moves on to Grad school. (For the rest of this story I’ll call him “Green Lantern” not because he’s environmentally green--which he really is--but because he is actually a superhero.)

In the first dream, the Green Lantern had cloned himself and his clone was a vampire. The vampire version of him was in love with me so his first act was to turn me into a vampire. We then began terrorizing this little town we lived in. We drove a little yellow car that was in serious need of repair, but we were the happiest vampire couple ever to terrorize a tiny town.

In the second dream, Batman decided we needed to go shopping. As a challenge to make it more exciting, he picked out my outfit. Not quite what I would have chosen, but I wore it for the game. However, Batman neglected to allow me any shoes. I pointed this out and he said socks were good enough. Then we went shopping. Batman would only speak in French to old people and in Spanish to young people. But he spoke to me in English.

When I woke up I had received emails from the real versions of both of them. I love these two friends of mine so very much.

The other day I was thinking that--other than my two Daniels--I’m very glad I’m not married to any of the men I’d had crushes on…none of them were really good enough for me. When I look back, I’d still happily choose either Batman or the Green Lantern. Mostly because I know I could live my whole life with either of them and always find them fascinating and never get bored by either. (Choose your best friend and you’ll find the best match!) Further truth is that while both of them love me, neither of them is “in” love with me. In my mind that just means—as impossible as it sounds to me—that there is a guy out there who is better for me than both of them.

I guess I just need to look for a new Vegetarian, Gemini, Tall, Dark, and Handsome Daniel. I wonder what kind of superhero he’ll be?

Sixth Minky's Guide to Zombies

2009-01-12T22:02:00.000-08:00

Hello Everyone!

Here is my newest zine. It's kind of small and very silly, so it's just a trade or a stamp or a letter or just ask me and I'll give you one.

Sixth Minky
PO BOX 8891
Moscow, ID 83843

Dan's also got a new Juniper out with some great advice about slowing down. Follow the link to his blog and it'll give you the ordering instructions.

My next project is a movie-themed zine that will feature a special section by Plastic Bucket! I'm quite excited about that. Enjoy your day, and watch your back!

Maaike Davidson: Contact Person

2009-01-10T15:13:00.000-08:00

"I am the contact person."
"Liaison is the fancier word," Roy said.
"But I like 'contact person' because it sounds like I might get a hug."

Eddie-Phil thinks the Stellmons ROCK!

2009-01-04T21:47:00.001-08:00

Here is Eddie-Phil, my teddy bear with multiple personality disorder, wearing his new hoodie from Ben and Jade. He thinks he's so cool now that I'm afraid another personality just might come into bloom.

Eddie-Phil thinks the Stellmons rock, and so do I. Jade, Ben, & Tonnelle are great at making me feel loved! What more could anyone want in a friend?

I'll go buy those lottery tickets and then we'll have a party with my winnings. I'm thinking a Mediterranean cruise with everyone. Remember to bring Piggy and Boogar so that Eddie-Phil will have someone to hang out with, too.

A Quiz I Took on Facebook.

2009-01-03T09:20:00.000-08:00

What's Your Mental Age?

Result: 7 Years Old

You're all about energy, fun, and not really caring or even thinking about the future. Basically, you're seven years old.

The good news is, you've got a youthful spirit that others envy. The bad news is, you still wet the bed. Sometimes. Only when you've had too much soda late at night.

This is OH SO TRUE! I'll never grow up. And when I do, I want to be a monkey.

The Tattle Tale Board

2009-01-02T11:37:00.001-08:00

For lack of much else to do, Beth and I have taken to tattling on each other. Ignore Beth's "not a date" protest because she has, in fact, gone on more dates since I've been living with her than I have in my entire career as an "eligible" lady. Mostly this started because Beth is being a good influence on me: making me go to class because we'd have to leave at the same time. I always said I was going to tell her mom. So, if you want to tell on Beth for being a good influence on you, go right ahead. Maybe one of these days she'll get in trouble for it.

A Cat and a Dog

2008-12-31T20:46:00.001-08:00

When I grow up these are the two pets I want. The cat is a Russian Blue. (Badelaar was this breed of cat and he was so sweet. Also, very beautiful.)
The dog is a Vizsla. They're medium sized, about like a lab. Not a biting type of dog, and also very sweet.
I do want some pets. If any of you hear about someone who has Russian Blue Kittens, or Vizsla Puppies, please let me know. I'll even set aside some money in my budget for them.

My YA novel's ending...what do you think?

2008-12-30T01:08:00.001-08:00

I stood there, hair still slowly growing back in from my tussle with the clippers. The locker door was open and in the mirror I could see Neil walking up behind me. I tried not to hope because hope hurts like hell. I suddenly realized that he called my name.

When I turned around he was standing there with a bouquet of purple and yellow irises--my favorite flower (he must have done some asking around to figure that out, boys usually just bring the old stand by: roses). "I can't believe I never saw you before," he started, "I must have been blind." He handed me the flowers and I smiled. It was the beginning of a new life for me.

At least it would have been if Disney were in charge of writing my life. Disney hasn't written any of my life. Edward Gorey, maybe. A chapter or two by Tim Burton. But never, ever Disney. The real story went exactly like this:

I stood there, hair still slowly growing back in from my tussle with the clippers. Bits of it stuck out randomly in protest to having been shaved off in the first place. As I applied the newest layer of Dr. Pepper flavored LipSmackers lip gloss, in the mirror I could see Neil walking up behind me.

Then he walked on by as he had always done in the past. I smiled to myself. The thing is we all have types. Sometimes girls are willing to go "outside the box" and date someone a little different from her type, but I have yet to find a successful way to get a guy to do that. And if you're not his type in the first place he won't see you. No matter how many "and they lived happily ever afters" get shoved down our throats, if you're not his type he won't see you in the second place either.

So, Neil walked past me and I closed my locker door. I put a little bit of lip gloss on my fingers and ran it over the gnarliest cowlick on my head just to make sure it would stick up a little more fiercely. Then, I smiled to myself. I didn't win his heart. I may never win any guy's heart. But right now I had lip gloss in my hair and I was happy.

Girls, this is IMPORTANT

2008-12-24T18:26:00.001-08:00

Just How Much Money Does Poppa Have?

2008-12-23T17:44:00.001-08:00

It was Monday night and I couldn't sleep. I decided to stay up and work on some stuff--and then when I did go to bed I was hitting the "goofy" side of staying up.

I was lying in bed singing to myself the song that starts: Hush little baby don't say a word, Poppa's gonna buy you a mocking bird. After singing about the bird, the diamond ring, and the silver mine, I realized I had absolutely NO IDEA what came next. So I made it into a game with one rule. No matter what I came up with, I had to rhyme it.

Here is my favorite verse:

...Poppa's gonna buy you a corner of Iraq. If Iraq gets conquered by insurgents, Poppa's gonna buy some Surf Laundry Detergent. If that detergent don't get you clean, Poppa's gonna buy a nuclear submarine.

At this point I started laughing right out loud. It was late, I was goofy and making myself laugh. I wondered who could possibly understand the joy I found in that. I'm posting it here to see if any of the rest of you find it as funny as I did.

Find What You Need--Discover Who You Are

2008-12-16T13:49:00.001-08:00

Television is not always the most reliable source for epiphanies, but I'll take them where ever they come. I won't reveal the show, but a therapist on it said that when we take a look at what we really need in our lives we discover who we really are. This was very intriguing. So I thought about it.

What do I really need?

I need a hug.
I need my Mom.
I need my Dad.
I need my family.
I need you, my friend.
I need to feel important to you because you are SO important to me.
I need to feel loved by you because I love you SO much.

So that's what I thought of. Then I tried to figure out who I am through those needs. I figure what I really am is a five year old little girl in the backyard trying to get everyone's attention by shouting: Look what I can do! Which is basically a cry for "need me, love me." I am--and always will be--that little girl who wants to stand out from the crowd, who overflows with love for you and wants nothing more than for you to overflow with love for me.

Who are you?