Imagine, if you will, a trinket so simple, so common, as to be nothing more than an every day household object. Imagine, if you will, something as nondescript as a simple copper fitting, sitting on the bathroom sink.

Imagine that when you see it, you are reminded of a moment in your life where you dared to believe. A moment so pure in its sweetness and simplicity that every time you see that small object, your heart skips a beat and you feel a fluttering in your stomach.

Imagine, if you can, the moment in which that belief, that dream, is harshly stripped away from you, and the object that once brought you such joy can now bring you to your knees from the pain. When the seeing of it reminds you of the reality of the world, and the loss of something so precious that you find yourself reaching for it, wanting to throw it away, remove it from your sight.

Imagine being unable to do it, because the memory of that moment, that sweet simple moment, is still burning brightly somewhere behind the pain. It is still echoing through your heart, like a siren’s call behind the banshee’s wail.

Imagine.

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.

- Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear

Yeah, you’ve seen this up here a million times before. And I’ll repost it every single time I find myself faced with paralyzing fear.

After a lovely weekend of goofing off with friends, I found myself yesterday with slightly irritated eyes. This has been an on and off thing as of late, my contacts seem to have caused some type of minor infection in my pretty little orbs. I’m becoming used to it, and have been pretty good about taking my contacts out a lot more than I would normally to give my eyes a rest.

This morning I woke up and got ready for work, with my eyes still slightly irritated. I opted to not cram contacts in my eyes and just go into work with my glasses on.

And that’s when the fun began!

While it’s slightly overcast outside, to me it is excruciatingly bright. So bright that I can barely hold my eyes open. Even with sunglasses. Dedicated employee that I am, I drove in anyway, damn near driving myself into a wall at one point.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Stupid move on my part, but stupidity seems to be the nature of my life these days.

At any rate, I made it in, alive and mostly unscathed. But now I’m stuck at the office with no way to get back to the other side of the river and fighting the urge to find the darkest room available and just lock myself in it.

On days like today, the thought of just skipping out on life in general becomes more and more solid in my brain.

A friend of mine sent me some great stuff via email this morning. I mean, seriously, great stuff. Interesting stuff. Educational stuff.

He tells me that there’s tons of this stuff out there, all of these guides for guys for dating. Except, see, they aren’t really guides for dating. More like guides for how to be a total douche bag and get laid a lot.

Awesome.

In short, the premise is that the more elusive you are, the more she’ll want you. The more you don’t call her, the more you pretend you don’t notice her, the more “busy” you make yourself, the more she’ll throw herself at you. It’s all just one big game. And who wins is he who gets laid the most.

Or something.

Some guys tell me this shit works, I’ve heard more from my guy friends about “power structure” and “keeping them guessing” than I care to admit. And I guess it must or there wouldn’t be so much information online devoted to treating women like toys.

Here’s the catch though. The women who have self-esteem and a sense of worth? The ones who are solid and moving somewhere in their life? They aren’t going to like your little game, gentlemen. And eventually they’ll get tired of playing and they’ll wander off and find someone else to play with.

Someone who treats them with respect and courtesy. Someone who knows how to show a woman that he truly cares for her and wants to be with her.

Just a thought.

Still waiting to wake up, with the foggy eyed realization that this has all been but a dream.

*sigh*

Alas, I don’t suspect that shall happen any time soon. The ears that need to hear are deaf, the eyes that need to see are closed, and the lips that need to speak are bound. Bad poetry, yes? But wait! There’s more!

—

From the nightmare I reach, and grasp to find only emptiness.
Wake now, wake!
Emerge from the tangled sheets, twisted with the sweat of anxiety and passions lost.
Wake now, wake!
Breathe the morning light, filling spaces long since vacant.
Wake now, wake!
Watch the dust glimmer upon the rays of the morning, calling their soft sound.
Wake now, wake!
Bring me from the brink of insanity, bring me back to this world.
I beg, wake now, wake.

—

Is “diametrically opposed” canceling itself out?

Diametrically is to be on opposite sides.

Opposed is to be on opposite sides.

Is that like some weird double negative that I just can’t shake? Would it be more appropriate to be diametrically posed?

Although, that does lead one to have odd visions in their head. *headscratch*

Clearly, I need more alcohol to solve this problem. Poohda, another round, pls!

… is having to make choices and decisions you’d rather not make.

It’d be nice if life went exactly as you wanted it to go, but it doesn’t. It sort of takes its own little twists and turns, until one day you wake up and find yourself so far off the path you laid out that you are, for all practical purposes, lost in the woods.

Then you are forced to deal with a choice. As a child, I had the luxury of just wandering in the woods and seeing where it might lead. As an adult? Fat fucking chance.

Life is only so long, and there’s just not enough time left to wander through the woods and stare at the pretty trees. Time to get back on the road and get busy doing what it was that I set out to do in the first place.

And that? Is a decision I really didn’t want to make.

I’d shake my fist at the universe, but it was never really listening anyway.

My calendar tells me that I’m going to Erie, PA from July 18th to July 21st. However, late last night that all changed.

As Lucy and I were talking on the phone, giggling about what we were going to do and fun it was going to be, we both lamented that it might not be the same without Stephanie. Sure, we’d have fun, we’d paint the town red, we’d get into all sorts of trouble, but without Stephanie, it just wouldn’t be the same. So I got this wild idea to fly Stephanie up from Florida to Erie for that weekend. Lucy and I bounced up and down at the idea, giggled a lot more, and sent Stephanie an email asking her how she felt about such a long flight.

Last night I sat on the phone with Stephanie looking over flights and what we were going to do. Finally we agreed that she’d fly here to DC and we’d make the six hour drive to Erie together. So we booked the flight, called it a night, and yours truly went to bed.

This morning I wake to an email from Stephanie saying she changed her mind.

…

Heh, sort of.

Stephanie decided that what we really needed to do was spend our weekend of wild, wicked, girls only debauchery here in DC. She contacted Lucy, and between the two of them, they completely reworked the plans. So Stephanie is still flying in on Thursday the 17th, but instead of her and I getting in the car on the 18th and road tripping to Erie, Lucy is going to come here.

With Cricket being out of town, we’ll have the house to ourselves. So we began making even further plans. We’ll go out Friday, have a bit of fun. On Saturday we’ll do the usual touristy type things that one does when one visits the capital. On Saturday night?

All hell will be breaking loose at my house with a girls only get together. A couple of friends from work, a few of my other friends, plus the three of us. The plan is simple. A little nosh, a little drink, and lots of giggling and talking smack about the things that make us tick (read: talking shit about men).

I’m sure you’ll be able to hear us from miles away. Pay no mind to the sirens, I’m sure it’ll just be a little misunderstanding.

So in late July I’m road tripping my happy ass over to Erie, PA to see an old friend. I haven’t seen her since I was pregnant with my beloved Cricket. We grew up together, had babies together, shared life and death together, and somehow managed to forget to grow old together.

She held my hand when my mother died, she was the only one there the moment I knew - that wicked dark day when I walked in the house and saw that dress. I held her hand when her brother died - as an adult probably not nearly as graceful as she had been, with my incredulous “Stop joking” as I wiped the sleep out of my eyes and stared at my phone in disbelief. We lived, loved, laughed, cried, and swore that we’d never let go. And then, because life is a bitch, we lost touch. We are fixing that, goddammit. This worn and weary heart rejoices at that thought. I have always loved her, will always love her, and having managed to somehow learn though all of this bullshit what’s important and what’s not, I will never let her go again.

—

Hopefully, if all works in my favor, I’m taking a late summer trip out to the wicked wilds of the Pacific Northwest and seeing my best girl Fran for a week of PIE. We’ll dance our asses off, party like it’s 1999, and pick up Jeannie along the way and feed her little ass! My fingers are crossed, this is a trip I desperately need to take. My dearest and most beloved friend for the last ten years, the one person with an insight to my deepest thoughts and feelings, who just somehow always knows my mood and knows how to handle me, with a trip to see someone new to me, who holds a place in my heart that no one can ever take away. Never letting go.

—

Tonight, the phone rings, and I hear from an old AOL buddy that he’s going to be in VA tonight, road tripping his happy ass off, and wanting to share a drink or two and a couple of days. Goddess knows I love this kid. We have a strange online history that can only be understood by those who have developed and maintained online friendships that surpass a couple of years… it’s been a lifetime in online years. I think I saved his life one night, and in turn he gave me something to believe in. My passion for our youth was born that night. My belief in the future of our world, the desire to save someone, anyone, anything, to salvage what is left of this horrid world was born in that moment when my heart stopped and I scrambled to get an ambulance to a house in a Chicago suburb. From Florida.

I’ve never met him. I never met his mother who met a horrible fate. I never met his father who thanked me so many times over the years I began to feel uncomfortable. But somewhere, in all of the entanglements of my life, I was connected to someone. By a force greater than me. Never letting go.

—

Over the years, I’ve had friends come and go. I’ve made fabulous new friends, only to lose them to the business of daily life, the stupidity of egos (yeah, girlie, I mean you - and me), and the simple fact that sometimes we really all can’t just get along. But every now and again, people step into your life, and maybe they step out too, but you never forget them, and never stop loving them.

Friends.

I am blessed.

One never left, I love her. One is coming back, I love her. One, unknown to him, holds my faith. I love him. And one, well, she and I may work it out after all, eh girlie? Another one I never expected to by my friend, but he’ll be there till the day I die, tattooed onto my cynical little heart. Another one, he’s just sort of coming in to all this, but there’s a bond beyond description. And then there’s the one who holds my heart in his hands. He’s… well, he’s something.

In this moment, this space right now, I feel more blessed than I ever have.

It’s going to be a damn fine summer.

Random horoscope for Virgo today:

You have the rather sophisticated ability to accept people as they are. Find the soft place in your heart that can embrace someone who is wired differently (oh, so differently) from the way you are.

Find the soft place in my heart? Clearly the writer of this bit has never met me. My whole heart is one big mushy soft place. ‘Cept when it’s not. Either way, some days this stuff amuses me to no end.