Just a Girl

Bad bad girl.

2009-08-29T14:08:00.004-05:00

I wanna do bad things with you.

When you came in the air went out.

And every shadow filled up with doubt.

I don't know who you think you are,

But before the night is through,

I wanna do bad things with you.

I'm the kind to sit up in his room.

Heart sick an' eyes filled up with blue.

I don't know what you've done to me,

But I know this much is true:

I wanna do bad things with you.

When you came in the air went out.

And all those shadows there filled up with doubt.

I don't know who you think you are,

But before the night is through,

I wanna do bad things with you.

I wanna do real bad things with you.

Ow, ooh.I don't know what you've done to me,

But I know this much is true:

I wanna do bad things with you.

I wanna do real bad things with you.

Image Credit

Please come again.

2009-07-05T13:10:00.003-05:00

I came again moments after you left with the smell of you on my skin. Exhausted and smiling.

Image Credit.

sigh

2009-04-15T23:10:00.006-05:00

I am sick of disappointment. Specifically, I am sick of people disappointing me. Why do I allow myself to hope that someone may actually be what they say? It keeps kicking me in the teeth and I wonder why I keep getting up.

Anticipation

2009-04-03T22:35:00.007-05:00

I close my eyes and begin thumbing through the images of you from last night. I’ve been doing this so often since you left, the corners are beginning to wear. I took them to bed with me as I closed the door behind you. And today they have been my dirty little secrets, hidden from view, as I went about my day. I’ve been savoring them, letting them stroke my skin and brain. Your voice, a temporary salve to this heat you have created. But it’s you I really crave. Your touch and strength. The uncanny way you can read my mind and know what I want and sometimes can’t admit. Your smile and laugh that are so contagious I find myself smiling as I write this. The tease of what’s to come, of what I know I shouldn’t but want to none-the-less. Rules thrown out the window, but knowing inside, I could not have resisted much longer. Missing you.

photo credit

Slow dancing in a burning room

2009-03-04T00:27:00.007-06:00

I've met someone new. Actually, more accurately, I've reconnected with someone from my past. We haven't met in person yet, but I love the slow, sly cautious dance we are having as we get reacquainted. Between the emails and the instant messages, there is a subtle undercurrent of potential resting on memories that has my body buzzing. The flirting, both obvious and veiled, includes honest and real declarations, dirty little secrets, wants, regrets and desires. He has given me permission to be completely honest with my feelings without even saying a word. How unlike me. I wonder if I will be required to ask permission for what I want in bed. How delicious. I want to seduce him, I want him to be thinking of our conversations when he falls asleep at night, I want him to check his email so often it distracts him from work, I want him to be focused on the IM screen and just seeing my name pop up brings a smile to his lips. I want him to wonder what sex will be like with me after 26 years of not seeing each other and he only knowing the girl and not the woman I've become. I can't wait for the first kiss. My mouth waters just thinking about it.

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Maybe

2009-02-14T14:45:00.006-06:00

So on this "official" day of love, I've been thinking a lot about it. Reflecting on my current situation and the ache it has in my heart. Maybe it's not meant to be. Maybe I'm pushing it too hard trying to make it work. Maybe its only purpose is to wake my mind and body up to the feeling of love again and remind it of all it can be or at least the potential of all it can be. Maybe there is something better around the bend. Maybe...

As he wanders back into my life...

2009-02-09T01:18:00.013-06:00

I love the way his skin feels, his shoulders showing too many hours in the sun.

I love the way he he rumbles when you scratch his back, like a bear awakening from hibernation.

I love the way he looks at me with this intense stare when his fingers are slowing lowering the straps to my camisole.

I love way he enjoys his family in the manner so similar to my own.

I love that he likes to read and gives me recommendations.

I love his interest in wine and that he can actually taste the differences.

I love how he wakes me up in the morning, still half asleep his body curling into mine and his fingers finding all the right places.

I love how thoughtful he can be.

I love his love for football.

I love how he loves on his dog.

I love his insecurities and that we have similar shitty pasts.

I love that he is such a good friend to his friends.

I love the way he dances.

I love the way he sucks in my bottom lip when he kisses me.

I hate his inability to accept love and allow good things to happen or is that what I hate in myself.

One of us has to take the first step.

Image Credit

Smolder

2009-02-01T17:00:00.006-06:00

From the latest cadillac commercial:

The relationship you have with your car isn’t so different from your other relationships

Some burn hot and fast but don’t last very long

Some burn for a while but don’t throw much heat

And some, smolder beautifully for a long, long time.

Door number 3 please.

Image

2009-01-28T00:27:00.005-06:00

Standing in the dark. Looking outside at the icy landscape. A distant porch light coming through the window making interesting patterns on the walls behind me and I’m sure across my tear streaked face. I’m not even sure why I’m sad. Maybe I have been holding in too much. Keeping strong, emotional and conflicted feelings bottled up inside me, which ultimately and without warning, find their way to the surface in the form of tears. Sitting here hours later, trying to make sense of what I’m feeling, I’m still not sure. It seems as there could be a number of possibilities, and frankly, they all sound trite and sophomoric. I think ultimately I miss my friend. My person I freak out to and that by saying it all out loud with, makes it okay. She is dealing with her own issues in life now, and me, the stronger of the two, doesn’t want to burden her with my baggage. I also miss a partner in crime. A man who gets it, you, and loves you anyway. Funny, they both serve similar interests, but very differently. I need them both in my life. They give me balance. They make me honest. They make me a better person.

Photo Credit

Inappropriate men

2009-01-14T00:27:00.004-06:00

Why and how do they find me?

Why does it have be incredible sex?

Why do I want more?

I want more.

The next morning

2009-01-10T20:53:00.013-06:00

Waking up with a wicked hangover to find my clothes tossed about the room with complete abandon. Open condom wrappers on the floor. Buttons scattered down the stairs eliciting the memory and the sound of him ripping my shirt open and the buttons dancing off the walls. Bandaids on the counter but no idea why. Several wine bottles on the bar. My sweater tossed over the table. A chair knocked over. His shirt in my bathroom and picking it up and deliciously breathing him in again. Snippets of the shape of his body, how beautiful the silhouette was behind the foggy glass of my shower. Wondering what shirt he picked of mine to wear to work. Laying in bed half covered by the sheet hoping he will stop and come back as he passes me on his way out, he does...twice.

More please.

Thank you Gracie for the perfect image.

What is a safe bet?

2008-12-15T23:39:00.004-06:00

I should be in Vegas right now winning. My predictions are spot on. Just a few posts back I dared open up and actually speak about a new relationship. Hinting to its potential and daring to hope but predicting its demise in an embarrassingly defensive maneuver in order to protect my heart and pride. Now instead of the hard press, the daily texts from him wishing me a good day, planning for a date days in advance, hanging out every Saturday for college ball, I get a text that says “I am sorry I’ve been MIA, I’m just trying to figure my life out right now”. And when approached on exactly what this means by asking him “Do you still want to see each other”, as I don’t get hints very well, the response is “I don’t know”. (Sigh) And taken from a writer I lurk after, “It was easy. Love was hard. Love is impossible for me. Sex, though, very simple.”

I get that. I’ve purposely pursued these kinds of relationships since my divorce. I like the power I have in them and the safety they offer. But then I meet someone while my brick wall was undergoing some repairs, and he slips in unnoticed. Now, is he like me? That behind the wall, the moat, and the razor wire, sits a person who is also afraid and wanting someone to take a chance on them? Someone who will be patient, do the work, dig for the prize knowing it will be worth it. Or is he just a standard, assembly line asshole?

Cupcakes

2008-10-18T02:06:00.003-05:00

Cupcakes. At 1:30am. I’m making cupcakes for this man at 1:30 in the morning. There are so many things wrong with this. I don’t bake. I like to sleep. I’m choosing, choosing to make cupcakes instead of open another bottle of wine. I’m getting up early, on a Saturday, to meet him and his friends for college football. Which, actually I really enjoy watching. But instead of running by the store and picking something up on my way to his house, I have decided to make homemade cupcakes to bring. And, pull wine from my personal stock and not something from the store. Who am I??

Where is this going?

2008-10-13T01:01:00.003-05:00

What is this? A boy, no…a man, opening my heart. Speaking honestly, about wants, and needs and fears so early on in this relationship – so new, it feels funny even calling it a relationship. Why am I allowing my barriers to be penetrated, and so easily? What is it about this man that let’s me speak the truth without fear or consequence? It’s not real. There is a catch. Surely I can’t trust this.

Body High

2008-09-23T22:39:00.005-05:00

I’m not sure what has gotten into me.

Funny I would choose that sentence. One my mother would have used to describe me as a child when I was misbehaving. But I think it’s appropriate in this particular moment.

My body is buzzing from within. It has its own agenda and is not consulting my brain for guidance. Hell, it’s not consulting me for anything. This feeling has taken over, consuming my thoughts and distracting me from life. It is forcing me to make decisions I would normally never entertain, at least not in the light of day. It’s somehow reading my subconscious and acting on it without consequence.

I’m finding myself in circumstances completely unlike me, yet just like me. Moments that make me smile for days after. That make me yearn for more. I sit outside my body, listening and watching myself ask for what I want without fear or shame. Enjoying the spoils of these risks and becoming braver each day. And the more I do, the more I want. The feeling grows stronger the more I feed it and I don’t want to stop.

And that, that feeling of not reigning in this beast is the scariest of them all.

Contentment

2008-07-27T19:20:00.003-05:00

The feel of his hand on the small of my back. His fingers drumming against my skin to the beat of the music. His body protecting mine against the crowd. Leaning into him, the solidness of an oak holding me there. Holding me present, not allowing me to completely focus on the band. My thoughts dance between the feel of his touch and the feel of the bass reverberating through my body, the mixture of the two is intoxicating. He leans down to hear what I have to say, his ear and neck so dangerously close to my lips that I have to consciously hold myself back from kissing him each time. I fail on occasion.

Grazing.

2008-07-24T00:44:00.006-05:00

There is a supernatural force that descends down upon me immediately following a grocery shopping experience. It turns me into a pregnant woman or a 7 year old boy, I’m not which. But as soon as I’m finished putting up all the groceries, I must have a bite of everything I just bought. Tonight I just had: Handful of grapes, 5 chips with a dollop of queso, 3 bites of ice cream, a Clementine, and an apple with a few slices dipped into some brie….all since about 9pm. I opened up at least 6 things, 7 if you also include the bottled tea. I don’t have these craving while in the store, they only strike once all has been stacked, shelved, washed, and organized. Somebody please stop me!

Words

2008-07-20T20:59:00.003-05:00

I love words. So much so, I actually keep a list of my favorites. The list includes words such as beguiling, languidly, cacophony, sybarite and robust. They are more to me than just letters organized, they are feelings that envelope me when they are heard or spoken. They are especially powerful when used by someone I find attractive. In the right moment, they could be foreplay, sexually yes, but almost more powerfully, intellectually. It’s not that I find a “book worm” sexy, actually, it’s those moments when the least expecting of men use wicked smart words. If they take the time to learn and use language they will take the time to learn and use me. It shows inquisitiveness, patience, folly, and drive or dedication. For me, these are adjectives to describe men that I am drawn to. Tell me, what are some of your favorite words?

Stew instead of Soup

2008-05-12T00:25:00.004-05:00

I want my life to be like stew instead of soup. This statement rolled across my mind recently and I thought how succinct this is. I’ve been going through a life review of sorts. Deciding what is important to me and what should be tossed to curb. And how much my life is wasted on the peripheral and how my time would be better spent on those things that matter. Really, just making thick rue instead of being satisfied with broth

I’m back from the best vacation ever. A birthday celebration that was just how I pictured. A week of family, friends, great food, amazing wine, and a town that calls to me, even now, a thousand miles away, I still hear it’s voice. It teases me with its ease and sensibility. The green rolling hills and cool nights. The smell of star jasmine and the sound of baby birds nesting outside my window. Acoustic guitar, the smell of morning coffee I didn’t fix, and fresh flowers everywhere. Not once thinking of work and instead focusing on long massages, fresh seafood, and smiling….all the time.

I realize vacation is not the benchmark by which we can measure everyday life, but it should be the menu of choices we try to incorporate into out daily schedule.

At what age do you become an adult?

2008-03-21T22:58:00.005-05:00

When did I turn 40? When did it happen exactly? I mean it was just yesterday I was fresh out of college trying to find my way in the world. And although I don’t know if I have exactly found my way at 40, I do know that I have at least traveled along a road that resembles the directions I had in my mind. A path peppered with no regrets. But 40 – as a kid it sound so old and at 40 it still feels so young. It’s funny – sometimes I catch myself walking through the house, usually doing something a bit naughty, and think “I can’t believe I own my own home”. It almost feels I’m just hanging out at my parent’s house while they’re out of town. But oh, how I do love being an adult. Not having to answer to anyone (read single adult here), doing what I want, when I want and with no real consequences. I like the freedom of making my own decisions, of being able to choose almost anything and act upon it. It can almost make you drunk with power, don’t you think? It’s a real responsibility to be an adult and some days I choose wisely, others not so much, and still others do it and damn the consequences. Those moments usually make the best stories. Tell me, what do you love about being an adult?

Thump Thump

2008-01-29T21:40:00.002-06:00

What is it I want to say as I type away here in the dark? The light of my computer screen filling the room and the music loud and filling my head. I love the way music feels. The bass or the thump thump that reverberates in my chest. I close my eyes and lean back into the chair and I hear the music around me, and it, and the memories and images it conjures up, float around in the vicinity of my ceiling. I shrug out of my sweater and take my hair down. I feel the dampness of when I put it up hours before and smell the freshness of my shampoo and imagine the sound he makes when he buries his face into my hair. I catch my fingers stroking my lips imagining him, his kisses, the smiles he makes when I take him into my mouth. I want to see in the dark with those senses that know best. I want to dance to the music around me, its rhythm and ours matching. But alas, I’m reduced to communicating my needs to him via text and unable to relish in the details flooding my mind and body.

Where to celebrate?

2008-01-23T01:45:00.000-06:00

I turn 40 in April. I’m on a quest to find the perfect place to celebrate this momentous passing. I want to take 3 weeks, rent a house, and put down 3-week roots in my new home. I want all my family and friends to pay me a visit at some point during my stay. I want to become a short lived local. I want to love this place so much, I ponder quitting my job and working at the local flower stand. I want to relax, and reflect and ponder the next 40 years on this earth. And I want peace.

But I’m in a quandary on where this perfect place should be. I’ve researched Italy, Buenos Aries, the Outer Banks. I’ve considered Spain, Jackson Hole and Big Sur. And for a woman who usually has no problem making decisions, I can’t seem to come up with one here. My expectations are probably too high. And my consideration of the needs/wants of my family and friends I’m sure are making this more difficult. I just want a place to relax. A place me and my camera can be inspired. A place with vistas, where I look out over the land and see history.

My very diligent, process minded mind is considering everything with this decision. For instance:

- the dollar against the euro
- big occasion, I should go abroad and not stay in the US
- don’t repeat a location I’ve already been to
- love the waves, but do I have to have them
- finding a house everyone will love
- finding a location that has something to do/see
- weather/climate at that time

I think what I would like is if the place could somehow pick me. To try somewhere without research, serious consideration, major planning…all things I have a want to do, and yet without all that, still works out.

I’m open to ideas.

I want...more

2008-01-12T12:11:00.003-06:00

I want to feel his skin beneath my fingernails. I want to feel his taut, tough muscles ripen against my touch. I want to hear his sighs in my ear, feel his moist lips graze along my neck and his weight along my body. I want to feel his desire on my hip, taste his mouth and breathe in his scent. I want to dance on fresh linen, I want to paint his body with my auburn hair and I want to exchange power. I want his teeth to graze over my alabaster skin and mark his territory. I want to lose time, I want to let go, I want to become his concubine. I want to call in sick and lay in bed all day and tell each other secrets again. I want to taste his hungry kisses and pull him into my mouth. I want to be preoccupied by the memories of him, I want to anticipate his next visit, and I want to plan for our next adventure.

Read "I want"

The Soundtrack of Life

2007-12-18T00:52:00.001-06:00

“The music you can’t forget from the times you don’t remember” – This was a slogan on a local radio station I heard recently. However, it really resonated with me. It made me realize the role music plays in the important moments in my life. I can hear a song on the radio that will bring back a memory for me that I thought was long forgotten. As I listen to the melody and lyrics, the details of the memory begin to ripen, bringing me back to that moment and allowing me to relive it again. For example, and in no particular order:

1. The Saturday Night Fever soundtrack, especially Night Fever by the Bee Gees reminds me of watching my sister and her boyfriend practice disco dancing in the living room. I was the DJ and got to stop and start the record as they practiced. I remember my sister in YoYo’s – the wedge shoes with the hole in the heel, her powder blue polyester dress and matching blue eye shadow. She was 8 years my senior and I thought there couldn’t be anyone cooler than her. And of course, I had a huge crush on her boyfriend even if he did wear white bellbottoms!

2. Georgia on My Mind by Willie Nelson reminds me of watching my parents slow dancing in our house. They were younger than I am now, and will remain that age and that much in love in my mind forever.

3. How Soon is Now by The Smiths, I Touch Roses by Book of Love, Every Day is Halloween by Ministry, The Bottom Line by Big Audio Dynamite, She Sells Sanctuary by The Cult and White Lines by Grandmaster Flash and Melle Mel all remind me of dancing in clubs during college.

4. Say Goodbye by Dave Matthews Band reminds me of singing the song at the top of my lungs while riding around in a convertible with my best friend on a summer night as I cried about my broken heart after getting involved with a married man.

5. Lenny by Stevie Ray Vaughn reminds me of an incredibly good night of sex. Nuff said!

6. God Bless America by Lee Greenwood reminds me of July 4th , fighter planes, and how grateful I am to our military for the protection they provide us. It will always make me cry.

7. Van Morrison reminds me of a New Year’s Eve when I saw in him in Vegas. It was one of the most memorable NYE I have ever had.

8. Don’t Stop by Fleetwood Mac unfortunately always reminds me of the Clinton campaign.

9. Turn up the Radio by Autograph reminds me of driving my high school boyfriend’s midnight blue camero. I was fast off the line even then.

10. Have I Waited Too Long and The Highway from Brandon Rhyder remind me of drinking beers in a local dive bar with two of my favorite guy friends. That was a fun night.

11. And anything from the late 70s bring back memories of easier times, playing outdoors all summer, and just being a kid. Here are just a few for memory lane: Good Times by Chic, We are Family by Sister Sledge, Heart of Glass by Blondie, What a Fool Believes by The Doobie Brothers, Short People by Randy Newman.

So, can you imagine your life without a soundtrack?

Loss of a weekend

2007-12-10T01:42:00.001-06:00

I’m sick. I hate it when I’m sick. I hate it even more when I’m by myself and sick. I feel no one, regardless of how independent you might be, should be home alone with they are sick. I think we all turn into the 10 year child we once were when we don’t feel our best and want to have soup brought up to us on a tray, and the cool hand of our mother laying over our forehead as she checks our temperature. I’ve been down most of the weekend suffering from a random fever. No other symptoms really – just a low grade fever that makes me dizzy, a little disorientated, gives me the chills, and the worst body aches ever. I’ve been sleeping most of the weekend and my dreams are something from a Lewis Carroll novel. But I think I’m most aggravated in that I lost a weekend both in production and relaxation. I had a host of things I wanted to accomplish this weekend and I don’t think one item was checked off. Ah well – maybe this is the body’s way of saying slow down.

Chill in the air

2007-12-03T23:26:00.000-06:00

I think it might finally be winter, or at least fall, in this southern state. I was traveling for several weeks and it moved in while I was away. The trees are now shining in new fall colors, their castaways swirling around my feet when I walk through the park. The house is cold as I refuse to put on the heat and instead bundle up in a variety of layers chosen purely for comfort and warmth instead of style. Hot chocolate is my dessert at night and the down comforter is required instead of just sitting at the end of the bed for show. I appreciate my car seat warmers as I drive into work, keeping off the chill as my sun roof remains open. At night on my return home, as I step out into the street to get the mail, I take a moment to enjoy the smells of the fireplaces warming the homes around me. And - soup becomes a consideration when eating out – where has that craving been during the spring and summer? I love fall in the south…tell me, what do you love about fall?

Once Upon a Time

2007-11-09T01:43:00.000-06:00

I wonder if I’ve missed my happily ever after. Do you have just one? Did I scrounge mine away on a man, for over 10 years, took me for granted and stole bits and pieces of my identity until I turned into the woman he wanted me to be. And then I feel resentful for allowing this to happen to me and punish him for it in ways I didn’t even realize. Only to be completely betrayed, in the most humiliating way, with his admission of infidelity? The divorce is many years behind me now and I’m a better woman for it and don’t miss my past life at all. But what I wonder most often is, did I miss my fairy tale ending? I’m a complete closet romantic. You would never know it from the tough and independent exterior. But I do have a soft side, an emotional heart that wishes on shooting stars, and dares to hope, for my slice, at a life of love. So you see, even after this deep hurt, I still believe in my happy ending. I’ve had opportunities at love, but I was scared…scared of loving again, and losing control and letting go and allowing my heart to be at risk. So I kept up the guise of independent, single girl, out for fun and stories and no need for baggage and passed on good men who loved me. I wonder still, maybe even hope, that I wasn’t ready for love then, or they were not my happy ending after all…because I can’t bare the thought of having passed it by.

Star light
Star bright
First star I see tonight
I wish I may
I wish I might
Have the wish I wish tonight.

25 things

2007-11-02T23:20:00.002-05:00

Did you know…

1. I love crown molding. Something about how it finishes off the wall.
2. I can’t eat and watch the news. The stories just make me lose my appetite.
3. Although I’m 39, I still feel like I’m about 28 on most days.
4. I’m afraid of lighting my gas fireplace.
5. I can usually fall asleep before the airplane even takes off
6. I’m personally passionate about my photography, yet very few people even know I like taking pictures
7. I often wonder if I don’t have a similar sex drive as a man
8. I have a great phone voice. I could easily be a phone sex operator and sometimes think about doing it full time.
9. I only own black shoes
10. I sometimes think someone is following me and will drive around until they turn off
11. I can be aroused just by music
12. The sound of waves can make any wrong, right.
13. I’m a sucker for a wicked smart man. Smarts trump looks every time. Confidence and smarts, oh my.
14. I want, but have yet to find, a dominant partner
15. I prefer to watch football and tennis on TV and baseball and hockey in person
16. I’m completely independent, self reliant woman, yet will cry at all hopelessly romantic stories.
17. “Georgia on my Mind” by Willie Nelson reminds me of my parents slow dancing in my childhood living room
18. I love the South, the people make up for any shortcomings of the place.
19. I love sex against floor to ceiling windows in hotels
20. My memory is more reliant on smells than any other sense
21. I’m impatient, stubborn, and with high expectations. But I find that I can see something good or beautiful in anyone.
22. A second date is completely dependant on the first kiss.
23. I love to eat Chinese straight from the take out box with chop sticks
24. I don’t like white wine – but love red.
25. If I had the time, I would visit an art museum every day.

Dreams

2007-10-17T00:36:00.001-05:00

I pay attention to my dreams. I think they are often the subconscious telling our conscience mind something…or at least hinting to an itch in our psyche. I dream a lot about work and find they remind me of things I have not anticipated or have completely forgotten. I also think they are a way to explore situations we might be too afraid to do in real life yet still wonder about. I think my most recent dream would fall into this last example. A few nights ago, I dreamt about being in bed with two men. It wasn’t an all out sex dream, but more of a moment of intimacy. The two men in the dream are men in my life. One I have a history with and one that I don’t but have been wondering about. The snippet of the dream, before it was so rudely interrupted by the alarm, was really just a snapshot of a moment. We were lying in a big bed in the middle of the afternoon. It was fall, the windows were open, and the cool breeze was blowing through the room, rustling the curtains. In the dream, I see 3 arms all toppled together. Mine, of fair skin, in between two others darker than my own. I was lying on my stomach, my face turned toward the older of the two, and the young man lying between my legs with his face upon my ass. It was innocent, we had our clothes on, but the anticipation swirling around the room was as real as if there was fog shrouding our bodies. I have not been able to get it out of my mind. The details are as fresh now as they were when I woke up. My minds eye photograph of this moment is something that I would want to capture with my camera in real life. The innocence, the possibility, the beauty of love and intimacy. Which, to most, would seem a contradiction between 3 people…and that contradiction, or breaking of the norm, I revel in.

My views of hotels

2007-10-03T01:59:00.001-05:00

They are my second home. I love the feeling of anonymity they allow and a sort of “Howard Hughes” safe haven they provide me. I like the views they inspire and the possibilities of voyeurism and exhibitionism they provoke. The neighboring sounds are always distinct and personal. Over the years, I have heard moans, and sighs and pain. I love that they stimulate the ‘dirty girl’ in me and conversely make me want to be swaddled in fresh linen and be waited upon. I like the routine they provide…open blinds to see view, unpack suitcase, put out toiletries, hang up all clothes, check quality of pillows, unpack laptop and power charges for all electronic devices and set wake up calls. I laugh when checking out the attendant asks “What room number” and I have to think, and then really think, so as to not confuse it from the last trip. I am amazed that at times, I can be walking through the lobby and not remember what city I’m in. I enjoy the ease of conversation that can occur between other fellow travelers over cocktails at the lobby bar. I like striking out to find something distinct about the city I’m in, on my own, and with no direction. Whether it be the local tavern, sushi bar or family owned restaurant. I’ve tasted about 100 club sandwiches at 2 in the morning after a long night of drinking; I have consumed many $8.00 mini bar beers and have even dared eating the infamous $10 bag of cashews. As hotels are constantly vying for business, I am a loyal follower to the following:

- Please have an open plug next to the bed for my phone, because when I’m on the road, time zones don’t exist.
- Please have an open power source by the desk and an easy way to access the internet from my room. And, better yet, have internet access be free.
- Offer room service 24 hours 7 days a week. My schedule doesn’t revolve around yours. I actually sometimes work until well after midnight and haven’t eaten since breakfast.
- Give me enough hangers to actually use for a week’s worth of clothes. I don’t care if they are the ’little head hangers’, just give me enough
- Always have an iron and ironing board in the room
- Give me actual glass drinking glasses. If they are plastic cups in plastic sleeves, forgetaboutit. Besides, when I put my toothbrush in one, the plastic cups tip over.
- Provide me with a choice of pillows. Feather and other – I will find one out of 6 that will suit me.
- Give me something special about my stay. For example at the Cosmopolitan Hotel in Toronto, they provide all things Zen. Mats for meditation, choices of incense, soothing in room water fountains, and inspiration stones left on your pillow during turn down service.
- Have a spa. If there is a spa on site, you are likely to get my business. And, if you are open past 7pm, you are really likely to get my business.
- And finally, and maybe most importantly, give me a view. This might be the only time I see beyond hard walls the whole time I’m in your city. I will be grateful for it while I’m there and will remember when I leave.

It’s funny, my friends see my job as glamorous, in that I travel all over the world, and I’m in some new city every month. But I envy them and the ability to stay home, and not pull out the suitcase, and be able to have pets, keep plants alive, take night classes, and have weekends home for family, friends or just themselves.

Be True

2007-09-21T00:24:00.000-05:00

His smile and this song make me…smile.

True to Myself – Ziggy Marley

life has come a long way since yesterday I say
and its not the same old thing over again I say
just do what you feel and don't you fool yourself I say
cause I can't make you happy unless I am I say I say I

got to be true to myself got to be true to myself

day in day out I've asked many questions I say
only to find the truth it never changes I say
if you don't deal with it it keeps killing you a little by little I say
call me selfish if you will my life I alone can live I say I say I

got to be true to myself got to be true to myself

I don't care if it hurts I'm tired of lies and all these games
I've reached a point in life no longer can I be this way
don't come crying to me I too have shed my share of tears
I'm moving on yes I'm grooving on well I'm finally free I've

got to be true to myself got to be true to myself
got to be true to myself got to be true to myself

Pairings

2007-09-18T23:28:00.000-05:00

What is about the buttery softness of parmigiano reggiano that couples so beautifully with a big, robust red wine?

Relationships

2007-09-17T00:06:00.000-05:00

The grass is not always greener on the other side. I know this. I know that what I crave right now (intimacy and companionship, even love) someone else is wishing for the things I have (independence, freedom, and choice). No one is ever completely happy with their lives. There is always something we need or want or hope for. It doesn’t make it any easier to know that even if we get what we want, we will want for something different later. As I get older, I see more of the details in relationships. I wonder, is marriage realistic in today’s world? I tried it once, but it didn’t take. And now, older, wiser and able to separate the romance from real life, I’m not sure I could do it again. As I write this I don’t know one person who has ever been monogamous in a relationship. Is marriage born from some religious point of view? Or from a time when people married to bear children to help work the farm. And – at any point along the way, have we always been monogamous? I think that along the path of life, we need different things from different people. I think the hope that one person can be that provider of all things, is not realistic. And, as we evolve and change over time, our needs do too. How can we expect our partner to evolve in the same way and still provide us with our changing needs? I do know that through life, we find people who resonate with us and the timing of their needs matches the timing of our own. In this kismet moment, I think it’s important to explore all possibilities. To wring all the life from this happenstance instant and take the experience and push forward, move on and learn more about yourself and what new needs this experience will define.

There is a new series on HBO called “Tell Me You Love Me”. It’s remarkably done. It is something anyone can understand, regardless of relationship status. I would recommend watching it. It could be a lens into your own world or the world you think you desire. Here is a snippet from a blog I enjoy lurking about on commenting on this show: Erika Lust

And the writing of creator and executive producer Cynthia Mort is spot on - it never flinches. She has absolutely nailed the small moments in every relationship - the not talking, the talking around, the quick, hurt expressions and forced intimacy. The series is shot with an almost uncomfortable cinema verite closeness, the camera probing ever nearer. At times dark and claustrophobic, it never once relents for wide angles or sweeping pans. It wants to be in the face of these couples, capturing what they're thinking and not saying.

In search of peace

2007-09-13T18:19:00.000-05:00

What is it that I want to say here? I know I feel the need to vent but the words are unable to travel from my brain to my fingers on the keyboard. The cursor is taunting me; it’s slow and steady blink just waiting to transcribe my thoughts to words. Man, it's patient.

My mind has been tangle of words, thoughts, needs and they refuse to be put into any order. It just feels like noise in my head. I can’t seem to concentrate on any one thing. When I do, another thought pops into my brain and sends me down a completely different path only to come to the end and wonder, what was I doing before this. I walk up stairs and forget why I’m there. I launch an email and momentarily wonder what the topic was. At least I remember my name and where I live otherwise I would be very concerned I’m an early age candidate for Alzheimer’s.

I’m mildly concerned with this mind mess. It’s unlike me to feel this disorganized, disjointed and loss of control. It may be work related as I’m as busy as I’ve ever been in my professional career. Add to that, my personal life is a bit of a mess. And the cherry on the top, is that I’m trying to turn a few new leaves in my life right now. I don’t have a facet in my life at the moment that isn’t in some sort of chaos or flux. I haven’t felt at peace in about 30 days until just a few days ago.

A trip to the desert in the middle of the night helped, even if only momentarily. Imagine a girl in a convertible, driving through the night, chasing some sort of sanctuary. At one point, I pulled over to the side of the road, killed the engine and lights and leaned back the seat. I gazed up at the black sky and watched the stars shine over me. I saw shooting stars, I recognized planets and I realized that the world is a lot bigger than all this shit. I sighed a lot…trying to expel the negativity, stress and tension. I talked to the universe and asked a lot of ‘whys’…it didn’t answer. I was watched by a coyote in the distance that I want to think was protecting me and not trying to devour me. I took some pictures, not really composing, but just wanting to record. I didn’t want to leave…leave the peace I finally lassoed. And today, in the light of ‘real life’ that peacefulness seems many miles away…but I have the pictures to prove it actually existed, if only for a moment.

Simple Pleasures

2007-09-03T21:09:00.000-05:00

I love finding joy in the little things in life. I don’t see them everyday. But after a long weekend with no work and nothing but free time, they were aplenty. Tonight they seem especially bountiful. Here are just a few of those observations.

- Waking to smell of coffee brewing
- The smell of freshly folded laundry
- The rolling rumble of boiling water and the hiss of olive oil hitting a hot pan
- Watching the fading light and the shadows appear
- The sound of a cork being released from it’s hold in a really good bottle of red
- The ring of good crystal
- Watching a French movie and all the subtle ways they say “Oui”
- The windows open and the soft sound of the wind, the occasional bark of a dog and snippets of conversation
- Ripe strawberries and their sweetness on your lips and tongue
- Hearing yourself sigh and realizing it’s full of nothing but satisfaction and contentment

Tell me, what little thing gave you pleasure today?

Me – in all the wonderfully weird ways

2007-08-28T00:05:00.000-05:00

23 Random things I love: (and of course, in no particular order)

1. Listening to the rain
2. Spirited conversation
3. Fresh, crisp white sheets
4. Full moons
5. Hanging out in my local coffee shop, with an iPod, and book
6. The sound of crashing waves
7. Really good red wine shared with someone who also appreciates it
8. My mom’s hugs
9. Discovering someplace new in my local neighborhood
10. Discovering a new place that required crossing an ocean to find
11. Holding hands and first kisses
12. The smell of toast
13. “Super Bubble” Bubble Gum
14. Any museum of art
15. Watching someone blow glass
16. Massages
17. Dive Bars
18. Sunsets but not sunrises
19. Convertibles
20. Multi-function ‘adult’ toys
21. Christmas
22. College Football
23. Books that let me lose time and place

21 Random things I despise:

1. The sound of teeth being scraped over a fork
2. Close talkers
3. People with no real opinions on anything
4. RSVP yes – but then don’t show
5. Sitting in the back of the plane
6. Discrimination – on any level
7. Peas
8. Licorice
9. Smoking
10. Not giving your everything in what you do
11. Carnations
12. Reality TV
13. Junk mail
14. Reading instructions
15. Having to wake to the sound of an alarm
16. Cleaning my house (and why I must have a helper)
17. Failure to provide the “thank you wave” in good driving etiquette
18. Feeling overwhelmed and not seeing the light
19. All my best friends don’t live in the same city I do
20. Wine coolers, box wine, pink wine or any combination
21. White socks with black shoes

Bound Freedom

2007-08-26T21:30:00.000-05:00

While flipping through the 1000+ TV stations, I stumbled onto a movie called: Lie with Me

This is a quote from the movie:
You have to wait until you are uncovered
You have to wait with someone naked
And then you have to wait some more.

This movie sometimes feels like my life. I like the power of sex. I like the unattached, raw emotion of unencumbered sex. I enjoy the dangers of these moments and how completely unlike me I can become. I find surprised satisfaction in finding a man that is able to exert his power over me as I’m usually the aggressor.

Yet, are they just wonderful distractions to taking a risk, becoming vulnerable and possibly stumbling into something true?

I think I’m a walking contradiction.

Today's Trip

2007-08-22T21:40:00.001-05:00

All I need now is the pink taffeta dress, dyed to match shoes and a boy in a rented tux with a condom in his pocket he is hoping to use!

This is what my ‘car service’ looked like today. I did actually take a minute to enjoy it by taking my shoes off, putting my feet up and wondering what it must be like to live the life of a rock star. I’ve been in limos before, but they are not so common in my life that the need to push all the buttons on the control panel has gone away. I had to restrain myself from pressing the ‘lights’ button, but oh I wanted to!

Later, my view was incredible. Little did I know Mother Nature has a special treat for me. If you didn’t already know from past blog, I am a big fan of clouds. My travel schedule affords me many views of the sky and I never grow tired of it.

I Want...

2007-08-21T00:12:00.000-05:00

I’m crawling out of my skin. I need a fix... a human fix. I want to touch a being, kiss a soul, bite flesh and breathe in the need for me as I exhale the need for them. I want to lose my bearing and direction as I tumble and tangle myself in another. Standard language is unrecognizable as moans and sighs become prevalent. Hunger is the goal and fulfillment the action of every movement and want. I need it to be rough, and passionate, and tenderly painful. I want bruises that are kissed in the morning’s light. I want tender lips, that when traced by my fingertips, elicit secret smiles that everyone around me wants to know. I want laughter and hugs that know no end. I want toes touching as we sleep and waking with your body wanting more. And I want to repeat it all again.

Friendship

2007-08-15T21:52:00.001-05:00

In my close circle of friends, my role is of the rock. They look to me for advice, leadership and more importantly, unconditional love and support. I’m the constant in their worlds of drama, insecurities and tears. I give good hugs, have strong shoulders and sound advice. I’ve really just been the lucky one of us all with good parents who provided the opportunities, discipline and love all children need growing up. I think this is really the only difference among us all and why they seek approval and unconditional love as they never really got it when they were children.

However, my strength does wan. I tire of being the one who always has to be responsible and disciplined enough to always follow the right path. Who do I lean on? I don’t want to turn to them for I’m afraid if they see their rock has cracks they will lose their ever present hand hold and, when in need again, question their ability to turn to me. What am I to do?

Words can change perceptions

2007-08-12T22:22:00.000-05:00

I love it when I completely stumble across another’s opinion that matches my own, yet is much better written. This is a section of a blog from Ravenous Searching of a subject that has been rattling around my brain of late. Thank you for expressing it so perfectly.

At this point in my life, I feel like I have earned the right to be as slutty as I want to be--or not. What exactly would I be saving myself for at this point? I don't want to get married and I am trying to arrange my future so that I definitely will not "need" a man. I don't want to be a wife--I want to be a partner that you choose to be with. I don't want to be coy trying to elicit some sort of respect that a man reserves only for good girls. Respect me because I know what I want and I will not make you try to guess. I will not revirginate for anyone. I have earned my sexual stripes and my independence. I treasure my knowledge and experience, and so will you.

Click here to see it in its entirety.

Secrets

2007-08-12T11:01:00.001-05:00

Frank, I'm happy to oblige.

If there is any blog on the web that you should read weekly, it's this one:

http://postsecret.blogspot.com/

What are your secrets?

Thoughts of me and you and me, and you again.

2007-08-09T22:35:00.000-05:00

My sister called me while listening to a live performance of a band she and I both love. She just called and let me listen to the music…no words, no trying to shout over the music…nothing but allowing me to enjoy the moment.

This is actually the second time she did this for me in as many weeks. I loved it. I loved that she thought of me while completely enjoying the performance, so much so, she wanted to share it with me. So she picked up the phone and called.

This makes me wonder…how many times do you think you are thought of by others in a day? I mean I know I think of others all the time. They drift through my mind from the moment I wake until I finally force myself to sleep at night. The faces are many. There are those that I haven’t seen in years and probably won’t for years to come. There are those that have caused me hurt. There are those I miss terribly. There are those I worry about, long for and wonder about. My closest circle of friends and family are part of the normal rotation, but then there is always the random playlist. Like the boyfriend I had in my sophomore year of high school, various teachers during school, a bartender I knew at a favorite restaurant, and a poet who I inspired. I’m not completely sure of the triggers that send them from the subconscious on deck circle to the batter’s box. But there they appear. As fresh in memory as if I saw them yesterday. I wish I knew who thought of me.

Glory Box by Portishead

2007-08-08T20:37:00.000-05:00

I'm so tired, of playing
Playing with this bow and arrow
Gonna give my heart away
Leave it to the other girls to play
For I've been a temptress too long

Just. . .
Give me a reason to love you
Give me a reason to be, a woman
I just wanna be a woman

From this time, unchained
We're all looking at a different picture
Thru this new frame of mind
A thousand flowers could bloom
Move over, and give us some room

Give me a reason to love you
Give me a reason to be, a woman
I just wanna be a woman

So don't you stop, being a man
Just take a little look from our side when you can
Sow a little tenderness
No matter if you cry

Give me a reason to love you
Give me a reason to be, a woman
Its all I wanna be is all woman

For this is the beginning of forever and ever
Its time to move over... ...

Listen

Want

2007-08-07T00:53:00.000-05:00

On occasion movies, or even music, will make me question my life. They make me look within and wonder, is this it, is this what I am, is this my best life? They make me want, rather, crave a richer and more meaningful life. To squeeze more from the moments in my life and let the juice run down my arm. They often make me long for a life very different than the one I’m living, often one to the extreme. Like selling everything and actually experiencing that list of “Places to be explored”. Or, taking time off to learn something completely and utterly new. Or, finding more substance or significance in relationships between people.

But something holds me back. Is it fear? Probably, and can be as equal in its intensity as the need to make change itself. Ultimately this can cause me shame. Shame on not taking a risk or having faith enough in myself to feel confident to pursue something I want so desperately, causes me to pace in frustration.

This quest to find meaning, to explore the rich backdrop of life becomes physical. My feelings are at the skin’s surface…just waiting for the smallest of prodding to be released. I become reflective, perceptive and sensitive. Even brooding. Tears can come as easily as a smile and it’s often the smallest of things that can elicit these responses. And I long for a soul who can understand and recognize this contradiction. Who will hold my hand and gently pull me to help gain my momentum, to watch me find my legs and share my excitement as I turn back and smile at him when I’ve begun my journey.

Getting my stuff done

2007-08-03T22:31:00.000-05:00

I’m so good at getting stuff done in order to make it easier to really get my stuff done.

I think this is my life.

Word Power

2007-08-02T22:16:00.000-05:00

Word Power
by R. H. Grenville

Words
spoken lightly
but with positive intent
are like seeds carried by the wind.
They will come to rest somewhere;
take root, bear fruit.

Sometimes, in a darkened place,
a desperate hour,
bright reassuring words
of beauty, love and truth
burst into flower.

Views from above

2007-08-02T01:37:00.000-05:00

The best part of flying for me is looking out the window. I know how juvenile that may sound, but I’m in love with the clouds, the land and the perspective of the world at 30,000 feet. Every trip is different with Mother Nature revealing another facet of her infinite creativity.

This recent trip the clouds took me to Africa. Imagine a savanna comprised of cool, frothy egg whites, and far in the distance, clouds dotting the horizon shaped exactly like the umbrella acacia trees and all awash with just a whisper of pink.

Not sure of what an umbrella acacia tree is – find one here:

On the way home, a completely different impression. On our decent into the city, looking out into the dark sky and seeing the Light Bright image of home.

For online Lite Bright fun – click here.

Past trips made me open my journal and begin writing the view I was seeing. Here is an excerpt from that entry:

“One a plane from Vegas to home. Empty flight and a full aisle to myself. Sitting watching the world through the window. It’s 5:30pm and the sun is beginning to set and it’s casting amazing light onto the desert and mountains. Initially the landscape made me think of corduroy and how I wanted to run my thumb along it’s ridges and feel the texture. Then, while flying over the Grand Canyon, it reminded me of macramé. The open weave of layers of earth in variations of colors, that pressed and tied together, make the whole. Later, the land turned into silk shantung. I wanted to feel the smooth texture of the silk with the sudden imperfection caused by a gully or roll in the earth. Now, it’s suede I see through my window. The variations of color and subtle texture. Finally velvet. I want to drag my fingers against its grain feeling the richness of the earth…and seeing a road like a small imperfection in the vastness of the fabric of the land. This would make a great exhibit. Photographs of the landscapes mounted alongside the fabrics they remind me of. Seeing the picture and then closing your eyes and touching the fabric. Great sensory stimulant.”

What do you see when you look out the window?

Cicadas

2007-07-27T19:56:00.000-05:00

The cicadas are calling. Their bodies sound like thousands and thousands of tiny maracas in the darkness. They are playing an original song, only they know the lyrics to but their sound brings back memories for me. Of summer, at my grandparents house. The house sits along an old country road with more land around it than people. I would spend summers here as a child, playing on the railroad tracks smashing pennies, laying in the swing reading book after book, walking through rows of corn until I knew I was lost but later, realizing I was only about a mile from home.

What happened to that time, where kids could go off and play without knowing where they were going, with no phone to check in and not come home until dark or dinner, whichever came first? That I was even playing, outside, all day is amazement to me with today’s kids seemingly preferring to stay indoors. Do kids go out and play anymore?

But back to my cicadas. The sound reminds me of dusk, big canopy pecan trees, and the sound of tires pulling into the white stone driveway of the old house. At night, lying in bed trying to fall asleep, and working to convince myself that the funny shaped shadows on the wall were really from the trees and not some prison escapee, I would listen to the random cars passing along on the country road. With my eyes shut, I would listen to their sound and decipher whether they were moving east or west. And I would count them, like sheep, until sleep would take me away.

The cicadas were the backdrop to all these memories. Sort of like the soundtrack to a movie, you don’t really notice it, but ultimately it enriches the images and moments and without it, they would not be as vibrant and lush.

Men

2007-07-25T15:13:00.000-05:00

I love men. All things about them. But what I love most is what makes men…well, men.

I love:

tattoos
biceps flexing when they turn a wrench
wearing just jeans and nothing else, sacked out on the sofa, watching the ball game and unshaven
confidence, in the boardroom, in the bedroom and in life
watching them effortlessly tie their tie
the badness in their eyes when they see you naked
when they can do ‘unmanly’ tasks such as cooking or dancing
watching them shave
when they are handy and don’t need me to read the directions
how they are around their mom
being a gentleman – opening doors, holding the elevator, or carrying the heavy suitcase
strong hands and how they can be tender and not so tender in the right moments
how they look in a tux
the crinkles around their eyes when they smile
their fingers in my hair
how they can actually make you feel protected and safe

Listening

2007-07-24T07:01:00.000-05:00

Do you listen well? Most people don’t. It’s a skill, rather, an art, which you have to hone, refine and be able to alter depending on the source. It’s a gift you can give. It could be an accomplishment on a resume. And it should be an asset people would want to own. But, alas, we are a self absorbed sort. We are more interested in the ‘me’ over the ‘you’ or even the ‘us’. We want to make our point, hear our own voice, and move on to the next thing. We rarely take the time for a real conversation. One where you look the other person in the eyes, remove all distractions (read cell phone here) and focus on what the other person is saying. Listen for the subtleties of the words they choose and the tone they use. Watch their facial expressions and hand gestures. Ask questions. Read between the lines. And listen for what they might not be saying.

Did you know that if you just pause for a moment and don’t respond right away when someone is speaking to you, they are more than likely to reveal more? People don’t like those ‘pregnant pauses’, they make them feel uncomfortable. The feel the need to fill them. However, I love them. I use them to sop up all that information and allow it to sink in and resonant.

Lately I’ve noticed I really hate chit chat…that conversation without purpose or meaning. If we’re not going to take the time to converse, to exchange, to communicate with meaning, then I don’t have time for it. My time, I feel, is valuable and I don’t want to waste it on something that provides me no value. I feel guilty about it sometimes; as I’m sure I can come across as being smug or distant which is not my intent. But as I get older, I find I want more from life…richer experiences, deeper meaning and knowledge. Chit chat doesn’t fit into this want.

I’ve been told I’m a good listener. I know I can be. I’m guilty on not being. But I work on it. I think I’m only a good listener when either I need to be, meaning the moment requires it or when I feel it in return. For the truth is, to really get to know me, would require a Masters Degree in listening. I’m difficult to know. I don’t share easily as I feel most people don’t really want to know, or care to know all the details. And if you don’t really want to know, then I’m not going to take the time to tell. If, indeed you are interested, you will have to prod, poke, and dig out information from me. However, once you have earned my trust, tested true as a good listener, become a protector of my secrets, I will provide you a bounty so rich you will feel fat and happy as if you’ve just enjoyed a wonderful meal, full of multiple courses, good wine and rich conversation.