Dear Roger: Damned If I Do, He is A Teenager After All

Well today is my baby boy, "Werewolf boys" birthday. Its hard to believe he is 15 years old and is such a hulking beast of a young man. I can remember when he was such a tiny baby with little frog legs and fingers that barely fit around the fingers of my friends that like to carry him around and scare me half to death because they were such a bunch of rough neck cops and he was just a tiny little thing. Now he is a big as some as they were. I had bought him a pair of black skinny jeans for his birthday in a 30 waist, and just a few weeks ago a 30 waist was fine, he still is all hipbones and six pack, but he cant button any of his 30's, including the new ones. His shoes are already getting too small on him, and I am wondering what the hell comes after a 12 mens!

His choir concert was last night, and it was drama and stress getting ready for it. He was ticked off that we were going to have to walk in the rain. I didn't know what he expected to happen, I couldn't pull a car out of my ass in the few hours he was at school. We dont have the money for a car. I know it sucks, but its just not affordable for us. I can barely handle the housing expenses right now, a car payment would kill us. Its expensive to support kids and he doesn't seem to understand that all the things I provide for him cost money, but hopefully he will realize it soon.

The concert was okay, but I could not believe how damn LONG it went. I met up with my friends parents who have been good friends to us as well, and we got some decent seats, and when it finally got going, my sons part of the choir sang for a grand total of maybe 5-7 minutes and then the rest of the night was the concert choir and the other groups, but would the director allow my sons group to leave? Oh hell no! We were there until 930! my butt was numb from sitting in that seat. I know it was probably a great show, but I really dont like the choir director, and its not her fault. I have a visceral reaction to her because she reminds me of the drama teacher I had in jr. high school. Yeah, I was in drama...I was also in art and photography and I wore Doc's and I was defiantly not one to the cheerleader types and our drama teacher was oddly one of those who loved the cheerleader types. We had issues, serious issues, issues to the point that I ended up leaving regular drama by the time I went to high school and i went into Technical Theater and I learned how to run the light and sound boards and build sets. Its funny looking back on it, me being into acting. thhhpt! I try to discourage son from getting into it, but I enjoyed it until I encountered Ms Hevner and I realized that it was just a matter of who liked who and not who knew the lines and hit the marks and such. I have that strong sense of injustice that makes me speak out and that does not work in that world where you have to grin and bear it.

Daughter got an award for academic achievement yesterday. I was so damn proud that she was recognized for work above her grade level! I have to say that her handwriting is already better than mine and her coloring when she takes her time, is beautiful. She uses 5 dollar words like they are normal for someone her age and she is in a reading group that is made up of advanced 3rd graders, not bad considering she is a 1st grader. She was so cute when her name was called, she hopped up off the floor and then she skipped to the podium, turned with flair and then curtsied to the crowd as they laughed and clapped. She already knows how to work the crowd! She stood at the front with the other kids blowing kisses and waving while people took pictures. I swear she had been watching concert videos of her favorite little rock star a bit too much because she was mimicking some of his moves. She already dances down the sidewalk in the mornings and sings on the bus I have been told, so she may be the one that is the performer in the family. I had to fuss at her the other morning when we were getting ready to go to the bus because she didn't have her boots on and she was sitting on the couch reading her bible! I have had to take it away from her and make her get up and move before because she gets to reading it and gets too focused. She wrote a cute story for her brothers birthday, but he growled at her when she tried to show it to him and that broke her little heart. I feel bad for her sometimes, I know she misses her relationship with her other brothers and I know that the vast age difference between her and her older brother makes things difficult, but he could try a little harder to be at least kind to her.

I know he is bummed about us being broke on his birthday, but its partially his fault. I had held onto enough money to pay for dinner out, but he asked for my pay card so he could buy lunch. I reminded him that if he used it, we wouldn't have money for dinner out, and he said he understood. I know its harsh, but I have always tried to stress to my kids that there are no heroes for us. No one is magically going to come and rescue us or help us out with a new car and free money and take us away to a great life of leisure in the sun. We have to work and struggle to survive. There are no Prince Charmings, no Knights in shining armor. We wont win the lottery or find an family heirloom worth a few million bucks, and that show that fixes peoples lives cant fix us. We got our fix when we got out alive. We are in the sunshine and we are damn lucky. Nobody is getting hit or threatened and though things are tough, its not about the things we dont have, its about the things we have. We have each other and a roof over our heads and mostly enough food and a chance to do well. Nobody is a drug addict,or drunk or criminal and we are trying our best. Life is not easy and nothing is guaranteed. I have tried to teach him that, and though I have spoiled him along the way by often sacrificing things of mine to ensure he had more than we really could afford, he is a damn good kid that makes me proud even when he is being a bit of a knuckle head. I am going to bake him his carrot cake and we are going to have steak and stuff at our friends house tonight and hopefully he will remember this birthday for the fact it is one that he didn't have to worry about anything other than the typical 15 year old boy worries.

Dear Roger: Insomnia Has The Most Inconvenient Timing

It goes to figure that the night before I have a busy as hell day, I would have yet another bout of insomnia. I swear its like my body just goes into rebellion at the thought of leaving the house to be around people or something so it tries to keep me home by rendering me exhausted and cranky. Last nights run of insomnia wasn't the typical ,'Lets just stare at the ceiling until we are ready to enunculate our own eyeballs , not this type is the worst its the lets let her doze off just enough that shes comfortable and then jar awake all paranoid like there is something going on" type of insomnia. Yeah,,,lots of fun, I woke up every hour or so feeling like something woke me up, so I had to get up and check the kids and the doors and try and figure out just what the hell? Watch enough horror movies or be a cop long enough and you dont sleep so good when you have that kind of night. I was too out of it to write anymore on either of my stories, so I just ended up reading any emails that had come in and trying to go back to sleep until the next jarring awake. I thought maybe it was the damn cats, but they were sound ass asleep each time I got up to check on things.

Today is sons choir concert and he has been bitching and bellyaching about having to go to it. He hates having to wear anything other than ratty jeans and t-shirts and the choir director requires them to wear dress slacks and shirts with a tie and dress shoes, so its like torture for him. He strips it off the minute he steps off stage and he looks offended when I even dare to ask for pictures of him actually looking decent. He is at that age where he doesn't know what he wants to do from one moment to the next other than play his guitar and talk to his girlfriend or eat. My God! the boy can eat! I got up this morning and went into the kitchen that I had left spotless the night before with everything clean and put away, and I found evidence of a quesadilla apocalypse! It looks like he had 4 or 5 of them and half a jar of salsa. I had cooked dinner, I swear I fed him, but he cooked even more food last night and ate again. Its just a little scary.

He has been playing his guitar constantly and he was getting the slower songs down with no problem, so I threw down a challenge to him. I challenged him to learn a Spencer Bell song called,'Beautiful,More So". Its faster and there are no youtube lessons on how to play it, just some random videos of it, so he will have to pick it up by ear. He has been working at it for days now and hes beginning to get it but the language coming out of his room has turned the air around our apartment all kinds of colors and probably made the neighbors think he has Tourretts. I he takes breaks from it every now and then and goes back to his slower, emo, whiney stuff and I just smile at him until he says,"Shut up mom ! Im gonna get it!" and stomps off back to his room to begin trying and cussing again. Hard to believe he is going to be 15 tomorrow, it still seems like yesterday it was just me and my little curly haired ginger boy against the world, and now he is a giant, dark, curly haired man that wanders around the house in his boxers devouring all the food and tormenting his baby sister.

Sis gets her award at school today. I am supposed to be there at 815 to watch her get it, so I have to put her on the bus and then hotfoot it down there. I hope like hell its not raining, otherwise I am going to get soaked, but it will be worth it to see her, because she was soo excited. She sounds soo funny since she pulled that front tooth.She has a bit of a lisp now and some of the bigger works she uses dont come out right, but that makes it even funnier, after all, what 6 year old says "indubitably?" Yeah, I know, besides me, but I was a freak too.

Mom has been calling lately. I had called and left a message on sis's phone letting her know that BW had died, and I guess she is trying to play mediator again because the next thing I know, mom was calling me wanting to talk out of the blue just about anything. I chatted a bit because I wanted to know how Ali was doing, and when I got the news about the full ride scholarship to any state school in Texas, that made it all worth it. I was so damn happy to hear that. Not only would she not be going to Arizona where its so damn dangerous, she would not be building any student loan debt. That was the best news ever.

I ended up having to call mom back the next night because as I was reading the hometown paper I saw that a boy I had grown up with, in fact a boy I had rode motorcycles with, played baseball with his sister and just known all my life, had died suddenly. He was 40 years old, a full year younger than me. Mom already knew which surprised me. They have lived back home for over the last 5 years and had been their typical anti-social selves, not reading the local paper or even associating with folks, but I guess dad had seen it somewhere. I was shocked, because after all, I was the one who had to call them and tell them Sammy had died, and that was the most devastating death to me since losing grandma and you. I wish I could have gone home to see him before he passed, he was always home to me and now that hes gone I really do feel like there is just nothing back there other than sis to make me want to.

My writing is doing okay. A story I had intended to make only one chapter has gotten quite a bit of attention and commentary and folks have asked me to carry it on for a bit, so I have. Its kinda fun to write because I have made it a challenge to myself to keep the characters just on the edge of recognizable, but generic enough that people can fill in their own fantasies. Sometimes I find that folks get waay to caught up in describing their people and it takes away the imagination of the reader, so I have challenged myself to not do that. its hard, and I have had a couple of critics bitch about it, but I wrote them back,(nicely) and explained that I was doing it intentionally, so they will either get it or not. I have found that I am having just a bit of difficulty writing sex scenes. I dont know if its my Traditional, Conservative, Texas, Southern Christian upbringing or the fact that I haven't been laid in so long that I probably wouldn't know what to do with a pecker in real life if one came knocking, but when I was trying to write the scene, I just found myself blushing and vapor-locked. I dont get it. I am not a prude by any shape of the imagination. Oh NO. But writing it? snicker....I even looked at visual aids of the guy that was the inspiration for the story, and that usually gets the motor running pretty good, but I just ...yeah... .Maybe I am a bit of a prude? I mean if my daughter was one of those girls chunking undies or flashing her tatas at him at a concert,I would ground her til she was 30 and hide my face in shame for raising such a hussy, so maybe its just the ingrained moral code that I was raised with that I have a hard time using those words...and writing about the act? That or I have just forgotten what the hell its all about.

Dear Roger: How Does An Under-Achiever Spawn Such Over-Achievers?

Well yesterday was quite an adventure. I decided to get out of the house and take care of some business that I had put off for a couple of weeks. The weather was typical Portland, one minute drizzling and overcast, the next sunshiny and warm. Its hard as hell to know what exactly to wear on days like that, so I went with my typical attire; jeans, boots, leather jacket with Woolrich hoodie and a hat. I walked the mile to the office I had to go to and took care of the business I needed to handle and then I decided to walk up to Fred Meyers to make some copies of a picture of my baby girl with young rock star that I have in my phone so that she would have it for her Christmas. Somewhere along the way I got distracted and took a wrong turn and I ended up walking all the way to Mt Hood College. That turned out to be a waste of time because they are in finals week and nobody is available to talk about anything, so I turned around and walked back up to Fred Meyers. It drizzled on me pretty much the entire time, but I didn't mind, like I said, I have gotten used to it. After I left Freds though, that is when the rain decided to get serious about things. I was midway home down Powell and somebody unzipped the damn sky! Out in the middle of an industrial type area, no place to get into, nothing to get under and boom! So I had to step it up and bit because I didn't want my iPod to get ruined, and I managed to get under an awning of a building. I was soaked to the bone and that wouldn't have been a problem, but I was wearing a new pair of jeans that were just a little big on me...with no belt. Wet jeans, a little large, no belt with no ass left in my pants. I ended up having to hold them up most of the walk home. They aren't huge, but they were loose enough to keep sliding down, and I have no desire to show the world my Victoria Secrets.

Got great news about my kids yesterday. My eldest daughter managed to get a full scholarship to any Texas state college. That means her tuition and fees are paid for the full four years! On top of the other scholarships she already has, and her grants and such, she wont have to take out a dime in student loans and that makes me soo damn happy! She will escape being a slave to student loans. She is such a smart kid and has such potential, I cant wait to see what she will decide to study. My parents keep trying to nudge her into things like being a nurse or a technician of some sort, and I think,"Screw that" she has had all AP classes, was an honors grad that had advanced Chem and Biology and Calc. she could go PreMed! Or Law school or anything, but she has to find her folly, not be pushed into something. I am just going to sit back and let her choose her path. My mother was discouraging her from taking Japanese as a language and I wanted to hit her, Leave the girl alone! If she wants to study Japanese, freaking let her, its her life. I studied Latin and I loved it. I had Spanish in High School and I HATED it, I resented being forced to study it and consequently I only speak Law Enforcement Spanish, but I can read Latin and I still have my Latin books. My parents can be so damn aggravating at times when it comes to their comments about what should and shouldn't be done.

My small daughter is getting some kind of award at a special assembly on Wednesday and she is getting tested for gifted and talented schooling. Her grades are outstanding and I actually had to fuss at her yesterday to quit reading and get dressed for school! She is a lot like me at that age, her nose in a book constantly, but she is very dramatic and outgoing and gregarious, unlike me at that age. She has quite a few friends and is very popular at her church and school, so I see bright things in her future. She is also a pretty hard core and tough kid, she discovered one of her teeth was loose and she worked and wiggled that thing and then just popped it the hell out on her own! I dont know too many 6 year old little girls that do stuff like that.

Stubby is in the spelling bee at his school. His grades are outstanding, when he turns in his work, but his teacher says he doesn't turn in his work most of the time. He is a bit on the lazy side, but when he is told to catch it up and is forced to sit and work on it, he is able to do it in about half the time as the other kids. He is reading at an 8th grade level and is also really damn smart and his interests are alot like my baby girls, he likes to draw and do art work and music, so I have tried to encourage the ex to make sure he has access to a musical instrument at all times. He was supposed to give him the mandolin that we had to leave, as well as look into making sure he was signed up for music lessons as soon as possible, and hopefully he will.

Soo, I have some damn smart kids. I am pretty lucky in that way, but I am so hopeful that they dont follow in my footsteps. I just never really achieved anything. I had the cover of a magazine at 17 with my photography and then I quit taking pictures and I burned my work. I had some stories and poetry published when I was in my mid20's and then I quit writing for over 10 years. I had more than 4 saves as a medic, that means more than 4 people are walking around in the world alive because of something I did. But then, there is someone who is dead because of something I did, so I quit. If I had not failed that boy on his test, he would not have been in his truck speeding to get to Phoenix to take the makeup test, he wouldn't have been in an accident and he wouldn't have died. I failed him, he died. I failed him as a teacher because he should have been better prepared for the test and then I wouldn't have had to fail him. Sitting at his funeral, (the last funeral I ever attended), I knew I couldn't bear that responsibility again, so I quit.

I have always set goals for myself that seemed hard to reach, then I would meet them and just stop. I wanted to be a cop, I made it then I quit. Wanted to be a firefighter, made it, then I quit. Wanted to be a medic, made it then I quit. Wanted to be a forensic investigator, made it and then I quit. Wanted to own a home, got it and then I gave it away. I am like to poster child for failed expectations and AD/HD. I dont know what I want to do now. I have thought about working to become a published author or songwriter, but I already have a few stories out on the web and they are doing pretty damn good and that makes me happy enough. I have debated going back in to being a medic. I was very good at that and it would provide a good living for me and the kids, so maybe my underachieving butt will finally stick with something long enough to make something of it.

Dear Roger; Walking The Thin Line Between Sanity and Masochism

I got drug out Christmas shopping yesterday. Yep, me. My friends and my kids actually got me to get dressed, and willingly get into a car in the rain with two teen boys and daughter and my friend, and drive to the busiest damn place in all of Portland. It took us more than 15 minutes just to find a place to park, but it was actually kinda funny to engage in the hunt, that part I liked, but then...then, I had to willingly get out of the car and walk into a place that was chock-a block full of people who have no idea how to respect personal space. It actually wasn't too horrible. I was in a pretty good mood after eating Thai food at Soy Grill and laughing at all the jokes my friend and the boys made at my happy noises I made while eating. I really cant help it, that food is damn good and so what if i groan and moan just a little while enjoying it? If my friends son is disturbed a little, then he should put his ear buds in and listen to music or something. I dont get to enjoy food very often and that chicken they serve there is just to die for.

Anyway, made it to the mall and inside and right off the bat I noticed that they have started giving mannequins bulges! Holy hell! It was like finding the perfect man! It had no head, but was dressed in grey jeans and a black leather jacket with boots and a red shirt and it had a nice bulge. Perfect! Of course I had to share my observations and giggle with my friend and speculate. The boys weren't as appreciative of our comments and rapidly decided to take off on their own to shop and be annoying teens in the mall as is expected and I was left without my gay buffer, wandering with my friend. We were walking along with small daughter when we realized we were both holding the hands of daughter and it was funny how fast we both let go of her. My friend is just as conscious of the looks we get as I am even though she doesn't get hit on by women like I do. Last night was no different . I saw lots of really cute guys, but I was wearing my usual black jeans, brown boots, belt, black shirt that showed off the goods, leather jacket with hoodie, though last night I didnt have on a hat at all and I realized my damn hair has gotten long! Its now past my collar in the back and my bangs are past my eyes, so its getting to the point where grandma would have had a hard time looking at me again because I know I resemble you so damn strongly. I guess thats a good thing, but it really doesn't help me meet guys. I was wearing jewelry last night, in fact I had on my favorite torque and my usual bracelets, so I was indulging in some girly stuff. I also bought some more jewelry at Fuego for both me and son, but my friend keeps trying to nudge me into looking at girly things for not only wearing but for decorating my house. I bought a new lamp for my bedroom and I thought it really tied the room together, its a bronze, retro look that goes with the 20'/30's Blues club theme I have been working towards in the apartment, and I got told I "Have the decorating style of a Middle-aged Gay Man." I dont know if that is supposed to be a slam or what, but most of the middle aged guy men I know have a great sense of style so I am just kinda thinking that I have achieved a pretty decent look for the place.

The mall venture was nerve wracking with small daughter running about, every time she spotted anything monkey related she jetted over and the ,"Ohh How cute! Oh I want!" started and I really would love to give her everything she wants, including a custom made Jackson Monkey from the "Build a Bear" place that my wonderful friend so kindly took her in and showed her,(Im getting her son drums), but that damn thing was going to run me over $75 bucks after we got it all built and I just cant afford it right now. I couldn't even buy her another sock monkey last night, but she was more into shopping for others and that was really sweet to see. She wanted to buy young rock star a new sock monkey but I explained to her that the picture she drew was a one of a kind and that meant a lot more than some mass produced knit doll and she should be proud of that, so hopefully she was assuaged for a while , but man...shes getting so damn big and smart I wont be able to snow her for long.

We wandered around for over a couple of hours and I found son a few things for his birthday, including a pair of jeans and friend found him a really nice purple plaid shirt that he will love. I got hit on in Macys and I just smiled and I know I freaking blushed like hell, but it caught me off guard because I was looking at bed linens while daughter was off with friend and I wasn't expecting anyone to speak to me. The set I liked is a dark crimson with black designs and its really stylish,a very retro look and it would really suit my bedroom. I was just pricing it out and kinda muttering to myself when I noticed this chick was standing next to me. She was around my age, taller than me, and dressed very fancy, with long hair and very lady like...in other words the opposite of me. I apologized for hogging the aisle and she said," Oh, you aren't in the way at all. Do you like that set?" I told her that yeah, I liked them I thought they would match my decor very well as well as make it really look classy. She agreed but then said," Well would your husband like it?" I said I dont know, dont have one, dont plan to have one, I pick things to suit myself." (thinking back on the conversation I realized that I probably was REALLY sending out mixed signals at that point, but I am pretty dense at times) She said, "Oh well my name is Liz, nice to meet you.", and of course, stupid me introduced myself.It took me a good 5-7 minutes to realize that I was being flirted with. I just kinda stood there for a minute once it dawned on me and I know my face turned every color of the rainbow, but I finally found my brain and said ,"uhh, Im sorry if I put off the wrong vibes, but Im straight.Im soo straight I have 5 kids." She looked a bit surprised which is yet another kick in the ego for me, and said,"Oh, what a pity." and smiled and walked away. I have decided to avoid Macys for the rest of the holidays. I know my friend saw the interaction and she was grinning like a possum eating persimmons when I finally walked back over to her and daughter, and she just shook her head.

I bought some new pillows last night. I was stripping beds to do laundry the other day and I was floored by the disgusting shape of sons pillow! I had just bought the damn thing in July when we moved up here and I cannot for the life of me figure out what the hell he did to the damn thing but it was disgusting. I bought myself a couple of new ones as well. Hopefully that will hold us for a bit, though I need some sheets for my bed because the one decent set I have is not in the best of shape. Its nice to finally be able to replace all the second hand and hand me downs that we got when we first got here with our own new stuff. Its been slow going and not always easy, but finally we are getting some decent stuff. My ex doesn't realize how lucky he is with all the stuff he got when he moved into my house, he got a fully furnished, fully set up house with everything in it. The boys even had over a years worth of clothes and I had the mortgage knocked down to a level that is cheaper than any rent pretty much anywhere. He still gripes about my sense of style too, but I noticed that he claims to really love my leather recliner that I left, so my sense of style must not have been too damn bad.

Dear Roger:I Think My Family Needed A Hobby In March

Its like a financial apocalypse for me and the rest of my family in December. As if Christmas isn't bad enough, there is a plethora of birthdays that is shocking in their number and magnitude. Its almost as if you weren't born in December in this family, then you dont belong. I think the only reason I was born in April was by some weird mistake,(but thats a whole nuther topic of conversation),and I actually tried to avoid the whole December birthday thing for my kids, because truthfully when you are a December birthday kid, you usually get hosed on the gift end of things, and you know that as well as anybody with your birthday being so damn close to Christmas. Ill bet you got the whole,"This is for Christmas AND your birthday" line a million times, didn't you? I tried to list out all the December birthdays the other day and it was staggering, and even with that, I forgot my niece on the 17th! SO we have son on the 16th, nephew on 15th, niece on 17th, daughter on 18th,(I failed avoiding it after all),Gpa on 19th, dad on 20th YOU on 21st , sis on 1st. Oh and lets not forget to add to the mix this year, that my young daughter has decided to insist on drawing a birthday card for her favorite young rock star (who happens to share a birthday with you), and demanding I hunt up an address to mail it to and actually mail it. I had to hike my ass a mile up to the post office in the rain, stand in line feeling like an ass and mail the thing because I promised her...gah! As if I was enough of a dork. SO anyways, Son turns 15 in less than a week now and of course we are broke. I am down to 4 hours a week and with the end of the holiday season rapidly approaching, I will be getting laid off, but I have managed to get him a few things for him to enjoy, but it soo damn hard to figure out what makes a teen boy happy. He loves the guitar ALOT, in fact, I think I have gotten to mess with it maybe a couple of hours since I brought it home, and that was with him hovering over me like a nervous mother. He was nagging me about my finger placement and how I was holding it and just being aggravating to the point that I growled at him and gave it back. I swear he breathed a sigh of relief and petted it. Im willing to be he has named it, he sleeps with it next to his bed and spends hours with it in his room practicing and in fact, I heard the opening chords to "Wake Me Up When September Ends" last night and I thought it was on the computer, but it was HIM! Hes trying to force himself to read music, but he plays by ear really well, and he gets that from me. I cant read music to save my life, but I used to be able to hear a tune through once or twice and watch someone play it and then play it back, in fact, that is how I took 1st chair trumpet so fast in band.Our band director played trumpet and I watched him constantly until I told him I wanted to try it. Hopefully son will keep up with his playing. I got him all guitar related things, and for his birthday dinner I got to thinking about it and I cant afford to take all of us out and since he is a young man now I asked if he would like to take his girlfriend out to a lunch date at a nice restaurant. He was floored. I just thought I have to acknowledge that I see him as a young man with a separate life and that perhaps he would rather enjoy some time with her and we could have dinner at home together later. He about strangled me with the hug, so I think that was a 'Yes!".

He finally shaved yesterday. He had a full beard and mustache and daughter was making fun of him by calling him 'Werewolf boy" to his face...soo not cool. I may call him that, but I try to not call him that to his face, unless of course he leaves a pile of hair in the bathroom for me to be traumatized by when I pick up a towel.

Soo, back to birthdays, I have to go out in the rain today and buy b-day cards like some people buy Christmas cards. Of course with you gone and Gpa gone and dad and I dont really have much to say to each other, it makes it a little less to worry about, but I wish you were here, we would be making our own. I still have the one you sent me that year that had a giant BOO on the front with "did I scare you" written on the inside, in fact, I have all the letters and cards you ever sent me as well as the cards grandma and granpa sent me. I keep stuff like that and I am glad, its all I have left of you guys.

Dear Roger; Distance

Ive been a bit of a recluse again lately. I dont know why, I just tend to do this from time to time. I just elect to take a time out and withdraw from things. I haven't done any sketching or even too much writing on my main story, but I think that is because the memories of him were a bit more raw than I was willing to admit to myself. Nothing like having your heart ripped apart slowly over and over again over the course of a decade or more to leave a lasting scar. I haven't even spoken to family lately other than the two that live with me. Son has been okay to deal with. He is pretty excited about turning 15, though I dont know why. He is in another growth spurt and I am just about ready to pull my own hair out. He walked into the kitchen the other day and said," Mom, I think I need a new shirt." and then he showed me the shirt he was wearing, one that I had bought him back in June just before we left Arizona, his wrists hung out more than 3 inches and when he stretched his arms over his head, it gapped well above his fuzzy belly. He also needs a new razor because he got told to shave since he was rocking a beard and mustache. Its pretty bad that my not quite 15 year old son can grow fuller facial hair than some 25 year old men, and I am just floored that he looks so damn mature. He gave me quite a pause yesterday morning when we were in the kitchen joking around as he was eating half a bag of bagels for breakfast. He turned to laugh at me about something and just as he turned,I swear to God it was like a ghost was standing there. The same stance, the same smile, the same way the eyes crinkled up, same color hair...everything, Mike was in my kitchen. I guess I went a little pale because he grabbed my arm and said," Mom? you okay?" and it took me a minute, but yeah, I was okay. I was honest with him. I told him he looked exactly like his father in that moment and he was kinda contemplative for a moment and he said,'Well, thats a good thing in a way , right? after all, if he was able to get roles in movies, then maybe it will work out for me!" Leave it to my kid to see the bright side of things.

I think I saw my guitar yesterday for a few moments. Son has been practicing it every night for hours on end, and he sings along with it quite often too. I dont complain unless its a particularly whiney or emo piece because then that sets into motion a spiral of being bummed out that we all dont need, so we try to keep it light and happy around here. Last night was a bit of a failure in that department as I found myself lost in memories, but we snapped out of it later in the evening and everyone perked up. Daughter is great for that, she usually engages in some form of monkey related madness that we just cant help to laugh at and it helps to keep it all light. The poor cat is the usual victim of her craziness and she drags him and her stuffed monkey around the house like a couple of rag dolls.

My sis gets her surgery today. I am worried about her, but its for the best for her. I just hope she gets to recover like she is supposed to . She is just as much of a control freak as I am and I have no doubt she will try to be up and around taking care of things that she doesn't trust others to do right, the very same day. I haven't spoken to anyone back home in Texas in a couple of weeks. I really just dont have much to say and vice versa. My niece is on Facebook quite a bit and she sends me updates that let me know whats going on with folks and how the weather is and stuff, but since I am not willing to move back home, I am just kinda out of sight, out of mind. I do miss Texas, but the Texas I grew up in is gone. When I went back there a few years ago, so much had changed it made me crazy and a little depressed. The West End was all touristy and Deep Ellum was all yuppified. It felt violated. The grungy lil clubs I partied in are all respectable now and there aren't any wandering punks in those places, the cops in golf shirts on bicycles taze them and haul them off. I cant even imagine what Houston is like now since the hurricane hit. Austin would be the only place I would even remotely consider, but even it has changed and gotten expensive and strip malled. I used to wander back and forth across that state with no worries, sleeping in my car when I got tired of driving, visiting kin in little hick towns in West Texas, just wandering around trying to decide where I wanted to be, but it just doesn't feel the same and I think its more me than anything else that has changed. I cant find home within myself, so I damn sure cant find it within a place. Daughter told me she missed Arizona and it felt like my heart died just a little. I asked her if she wanted to go back to Flagstaff and to her father and she practically yelled at me, "NO! I just miss my brothers and Fergus, but I dont want to go back there." I dont think me or son had drawn a breath the entire time we waited for her to answer my question, because I have given her the right to make that decision, even if it breaks my heart.

Dear Roger; Issues of Faith

Well the light of a new day has shown things in a little brighter light, if you can call my bank account looking like a bomb hit it a brighter light. Amazingly, the charges were allowed to go through by my bank, but now I am in a hole that would take a ladder to get up out of. I am thankful that daughters presents will come through, but now I am stressed about paying bills next month if I cant find another job before then or if the ex doesn't make it right with the account. Its six of one, half a dozen of another as usual. I had a hard time getting to sleep last night, but when I did finally pass out, I slept like the dead. Ive been doing that alot lately but I still feel tired alot. I think I am trying to hibernate or something to avoid the rest of the holidays.

My sis is having surgery on Friday. I haven't talked to her in a couple of weeks and I dont know why, we usually talk a least once a week, but since she is closer to becoming a grandma and so involved with her hubs and stuff, we just dont have so much in common. She is living her dream and I am so happy for her. Getting her breast tissue removed so she doesn't have to worry about the cancer anymore will be such a stress relief for her and hopefully she will be able to enjoy her boob job for years to come. I heard she was planning to go up to a D, though I dont know why? I have been a D since I was 12 and its a real pain in the ass to find bras and cute shirts. She was nagging me last time we talked to go in and get my biopsy done...its been a year now since I was supposed to do that, but Rog, I just am not gonna go there. Im tired. You know my theory on things, that once you find out from the damn doctors that it just seems to speed things up? Grandpa was fine until they told him the cancer was too far spread and he was dying, then dammit...he died. Uncle James was doing okay until they told him the cancer was in his kidneys and liver and then, he died. The damn doctors have done nothing for me for years except throw meds at me and do tests and stick needles in my spine and crap and I am done with all that. I am okay mostly, and I think its just better that I operate on the ,"No news is good news" theory.

Son and I have been butting heads on the whole issue of God and faith. He wants me to go to church. I try to politely decline on the basis that it is beyond my comfort zone because those people seem to have no problem with just walking up and grabbing me or touching me without asking. They stare at me and crowd me and I dont like it. I also have issues with the church music. I am a traditional hymn kinda person. I dont like this whole modern, lets have a damn band with a stadium sound system in the church , kinda set up. I like the old style hymns that came from the heart, sang from the heart with maybe a organ or a guitar as accompaniment. When I used to have faith, I went to a tiny, little wood frame church that looked like a church. It had wooden pews with a pulpit and an old minister with a bunch of old church ladies that made potlucks on special occasions. The floors of the church were wood, and it was old and traditional with trees surrounding it and a cemetery out back. Folks had been going there for their entire lives. I had to dress up to attend, no jeans were allowed. Men wore suits, I wore nice pants, but most girls wore dresses. I didn't go often but when I went it felt like church should feel. That church is gone now,the mine dug up that area for lignite and tore it down. I dont like the big McChurchs with the sound systems and people in jeans and stuff, it doesn't feel right, but then again, God and I have our issues.

When he took G in the way that he did, I quit going to church. It was hard enough to drive past that spot where he died without pausing there and being reminded. But I also couldn't reconcile the belief in a being that would take someone I cared about in such a hideous manner, so I had to take time to consider things. Then grandpa got sick...and he suffered, for months and months, in pain that not even the strongest morphine could touch. I heard mom talking to dad on the phone after she left to go help grandma. Dad wasn't particularly careful about keeping me from knowing what was going on, in fact I think he was angry that mom was gone and wanted to spread the pain. Then when grandpa finally died and I wasn't allowed to go to the funeral to say goodbye...that was another step away. But I slammed the door when the night I was up on the Piggly Wiggly parking lot with my friends, drinking beer and talking and a preacher came up to testify to me and try and "Save me from corruption."I asked him why God would take two people like G and my grandpa when there was so much evil in the world, that G had been a good and kind boy who had reached out to me and been kind and my grandpa had been an honorable and hard working man who had served his country and dedicated his life to service to others? The preacher asked me," Were they in church every Sunday and paying the tithe?" I said that G was but a boy and my grandpa had to work to support his family, so they couldn't always go to church. The preacher said to me,"They are both burning in hell for their sins." Rog, that was the first time I ever punched a grown assed man in the face. I think I would have killed him if my boyfriend at the time hadn't grabbed me and thrown me in the car. I knew then that if that was what God and his minions were all about , I wanted none of it.

I have seen so much in my life. Senseless death, suffering, loss, and things that just seem to not make sense. I try to reconcile that some of it is fate, some of it is karma, some of it is just the way of the world. But getting my son to understand that faith, or lack of it, is a deeply personal thing that cannot be forced down someones throat in a church that they do not feel comfortable in, is a very difficult thing. I am not sure what I believe anymore. I do hope that there is an afterlife where I will find you and G once again. I hope that there is forgiveness and that my atonement and intentions account for something, but I dont think my faith is meant to be mediated by another person, its between me and my God. The strangest things move me. The purity of a voice singing, the beauty of a sunset, the love in the eyes of my child, small miracles that I witness from time to time, but I dont find them sitting in a chair in a McChurch, I just hope son can understand that and if he is able to find it there, I am happy for him, but its not for me.

Dear Roger; If It Aint one Damned Thing, Its Another

Well Rog, you know how I said I felt like I was living under Murphys law? Well, I think the last few days has damn sure proven that. I thought I was doing good with trying to put together a decent Christmas and birthday for the kids. I mean, its been hard being away from their siblings and friends and any other family they would care to be around, but the thought of having a crappy Christmas on top of it was killing my soul, so I was budgeting so damn carefully. I scored the guitar and that was a family present that has lit a fire in my boy like nothing else, so that has made his birthday. I had ordered sis her dvd and a pair of sunglasses to replace the sunglasses her brother had stepped on, and I had even ordered him a pair and yea, I had ordered myself a hoodie to replace the t-shirt I had given to a girl that was absolutely dying for a t-shirt. I had most of the bills handled with some creative juggling and was trying to pick up a few extra hours to give us a few lil things we could send to the boys in case the ex failed once again, but then...the domino effect hit me. Ex calls and says, "Uhh, you know how when I took the van back in JULY I was supposed to get the title transferred and get insurance on it?" yeah..."Well, I didnt do that and I just got a ticket, so what do I do about it?" you are going to have to pay it and get the insurance on and get the damn title transferred and pay the fees for that " Well, I am going to have to have help, because I already spent most of my money for this week." Never mind the fact he makes more money than me because he gets more hours and has a higher paying job right now, and the fact his mortgage payment is lower than my rent,(thanks to me) and if he had done what he was supposed to do MONTHS ago he wouldnt be in this situation, but NOO, instead, he went online and went to the first damn website that popped up and bought some fecking expensive insurance instead off just calling Triple AAA and adding their insurance to the policy I already had on the van. That was the first domino. Then, the things that I had ordered for sis, refunded the money they had taken out of my account, back into that same account...are you following me? You can see the coming disaster cant you? yeah...He hit that account, drained it, its now over drafted nicely. My tight budgeting does not allow for any fuck ups of his level. He is not a 100 Monkeys fan at.all. I think it has just a little bit to do with daughter telling him that she loved the lil rock star more than him, but that could be conjecture on my part. I felt like high 5'ing her when she said that and broke it off in him, after all, lil rock star made her smile and happy, didn't yell and scare the hell out of her by taking a straight razor to her momma in front of her, so anyhoo, now , daughters and mine,(but im used to it) Christmas is fragged. Im scrambling around trying to figure out what or who I could sell to come up with the funds to still get an order in in enough time for her to have it under the tree, but DAMMIT! I wish I could just close out that account, but as long as he has my boys down there, I have to have a way for them to have access to funds and such. The last domino for this evening is im getting a migraine, can feel it building and I think I am going to find a hole to crawl into for the next lil bit and just have a pity party.

Dear Roger: Navigating Through Puberty Blind

People that said boys were easier to raise were damn, dirty, liars! Boys are every bit as difficult as girls with the added caveat of they are often more destructive. It has been like living with a werewolf with a hand grenade up its butt. You never know when its going to explode and leave a mess all over the place or what is going to set it off. I love my son dearly. I have sacrificed so much for him, as a mother should for their child, but his teen years are sucking the life out of me.

He alternates between a kinda ambiguous ambisexuality that leaves me wondering if hes gay, to getting caught getting felt up by his girl friend in the back of my friends car. He is a slob that has a room that looks like a hobo mosh pit, and an appetite that frankly, scares me. He eats constantly but is as skinny as a rail. He now towers over me and he grows out of clothes seemingly daily. I try to talk to him about how things are going for him, and sometimes he will talk to me, but most of the time he just grunts at me and goes back to either playing the guitar or talking to friends on his computer. He has never really had a good male role model and that worries me. He has no one to talk to about what all went on in his life and last night when his best friend had a family fight and ended up at our house for a bit, my son was tense and nervous and I could tell he was remembering things back in Arizona. It got worse from there, the boy decided to go get his backpack for school and my son went with him. I dont know what happened, son wont talk about it, but he came home distraught and shaking and without his friend. I dont know if the parents had the kid arrested as a runaway, or if the fight got worse or what? I intend to find out today, but I am pretty ticked off that they embroiled my son in it.

Ive tried asking guys I know what I should do to help him or how I should deal with his issues, but most of them just tell me to find someone at his church. The problem with the church is that its mostly older, rich, family men who have no idea what he has been though and there is no commonness of culture. Hes a poor kid who has never known a father, abused by a step father and shuffled around the country, separated from his brothers, no real grandparents,but he has never been in trouble, never been in fights, doesn't do drugs, is kind and respectful to people and when he isn't being all emo, his grades are stellar an his test scores are through the roof. Hes gifted in music and athletics and hes good looking to the point that he gets looks from all ages, so he has the potential to do what he wants, but he hasn't got that fire that will take him there. He is just wandering along and that worries me. He s apathetic and I think a big part of it is that he feels hopeless and I am unsure what to do about it. Hes a good boy and I would do anything for him, I just wish I knew where to start. I tried to have a conversation with him about the need to protect himself and that if he was fooling around with his girlfriend he needed to take into consideration that there were worse things that pregnancy, and the minute I said "condoms" the boy freaked out and jumped up telling me,"MOM! stop, nothing happened! I am not doing anything, we didn't do anything, I have no intention of doing anything! Lets NOT have this conversation right now, I am celibate, I am a virgin, OKAY?! " soo I started crying and hugged him which embarrassed him and he patted me on the back trying to calm me down and I just was so relieved. He is going to be 15 in a couple of weeks and I just hope that he keeps that thought and stays safe, because God knows that having a kid young or being a single parent is brutally hard, I have agonized over every decision I have made,every single day. Protecting him from his father has been hard,it meant we did without soo many things, and things he rightfully should have had, such as the financial stability that his fathers support could have given him, but his father was a man who kept his word about things, especially things that dealt with revenge, and when he told me that he would kill me and the baby, I believed him. I still believe him. I never saw him not keep his word when he said he was going to do something terrible. My sons safety was worth more than than anything his father could have provided, and when that state investigator came back and said that he had found valid proof to believe that his father was a viable threat to the safety of myself and my child, I knew we had to just vanish and stay hidden. I tried twice as my son got older to reach out and see if attitudes altered but his father was still just threatening and the paternal grandparents were offended that there was even a child. My son wants to know his father, and I have seen on his Facebook page that he lists his hometown as Santa Monica, but I just hope and pray that he waits until he is a big enough and strong enough to handle all the repercussions of that meeting.

Dear Roger:That Texas Mean Streak May Just Be Genetic

Its been a busy week for me. I finally nutted up and posted not one, but two stories and it was terrifying. I haven't done anything like that in decades and all the self-doubt came bubbling to the surface after I hit that send button and I about withdrew both of them within minutes of doing it, but then I started getting reviews...people like them! They are not happy tales with pleasant endings, hell they are based of things I lived through so you KNOW that they aren't the fluffy bunny, rainbow kinda things. I still cannot believe I did it, and I didn't tell anybody in my real life about it. They wouldn't understand that something I used to to with ease and pride now comes with difficulty, but hell, maybe my self-confidence will come back with all the reviews.

I haven't gotten to see much of my guitar since I got it. My son has been messing with almost constantly and I am glad. The only issue we had was when he took it to our friends house for an impromptu jam session and lesson and our friend decided to re-tune my guitar! I wasn't too happy about that, but I didn't make a deal of it because I want my son to keep playing.

Daughter had a choir concert at her church this past Sunday. She was quite the stress case in the days leading up to it and she was practicing almost constantly so she would be perfect. During the concert, a little girl in front of her kept fidgeting and messing with her skirt, not following along with the songs, or generally being a typical 6 year old kid. I could see the irritation building on sis's face, and it reached a boiling point when the little girl bumped into her and almost knocked her off the riser. Right there, in front of the entire church congregation, my daughter took her booted foot and put it right to the ass of that other little girl! I about fell out if my chair laughing as did most of the congregation. Everyone could see as my daughter then put her hands on her hips and proceeded to bless out the other little girl, right there on stage during the concert.She then flounced her hair back over her shoulder and went right back to singing with her perfectly angelic face looking as innocent as the day she was born.

Daughter is quite the pistol and I am not sure what to think of her some days. She has made so much progress since we have been up here. She smiles so much more and she really shows her artistic and dynamic side. She is still pretty wary around men, and yelling or tension really freaks her out and she shuts down if she hears that, but overall she is doing quite well. She is just as devoted as ever to her quirky young rock star and she spent over 2 hours yesterday drawing a birthday card for him, so I guess I have to find somewhere to mail it. I got her some of his bands memorabilia for Christmas. I hope that will make up for the fact our Christmas is gonna be pretty damn thin this year. The ex got a ticket at the worst possible time so its going to hit us pretty hard because he is going to have to have help, otherwise my boys wont have a Christmas at all.

I miss my sons so damn hard. A little boy with Downs was up on the stage during daughters concert and I lost it when he started dancing along, much like Sticky would have done. Of course the ex had to add to it later by telling me that when he was asked what he wanted for Christmas he said,"I want my mommy." I miss my babies so damn much, I wish my ex was someone capable of keeping his word, but I cannot risk that for my daughters sake, I have a feeling the next time I ended up on the wrong end of a straight razor with him, I wouldn't be walking away, we are just too dangerous around each other.

Dear Roger: Death Dreams,Strap Ons and a 6 Toed Cat

Well as you can see by the picture, I finally just went a bought me a damned guitar. Couldn't really afford it, but couldn't really afford not to because I was getting a bit buggy without something to pluck around with. Chance and I have been taking turns with it and so far it seems to be working out okay. I am still writing like crazy, in fact, I am just taking a bit of a break from the story to reconsider a part of it and to allow my brain to just rest a bit. Its hard to rehash so much of the things that went down, though Chance claims that I have been in a much better mood since I started writing about it. I told it it feels like finally throwing up after being sick for a really long time. You fight that queasy feeling because you know its going to be bad, you change positions, maybe even eat some bland crackers to try and make it pass, but until you finally give in and just throw up, you dont feel right, and writing this story out is my way of throwing up. I guess I am finally starting to feel better.

Chance and I even joked quite a bit about the guitar and he was even enjoying listening to me trying to start playing again. I am so far out of practice its not even funny, but I plan on spending as much time as I can when I am not writing, getting back into it, because I have 6 songs that I need to set to a tune. I started plucking out the one that really keeps speaking to me, "Over-Privileged ,Dirty White Boy Blues" and the glass slide really made sis freak out. She insisted I was hurting the guitar or doing something wrong, but I guess she just doesn't get the whole Blues style.

Chance and I had quite a debate over putting the strap on the guitar. He is fixing to be 15 years old, so you would think I would know better, but NOOOO, silly me, I tossed the strap at him and said," Son, I need you to put the strap on." The little snot just started giggling and before I could even say anything he said," Thats what she said." Rog! I could not believe it! My 15 year old son made a "strap on" joke to me! Oh my God! I was flat speechless for a minute or two just kinda blinking at him and then all I could say was,"Duuuude, thats just WRONG on soo many levels." He turned red then and said,"Yeah, I know, im sorry, but you gotta admit, its funny." And yeah, it was funny, but maybe if he was 25 and not 15!

Ive been having the weirdest damn dream lately. I dont usually dream very vividly or remember them, but I have had this one fairly frequently and it has occurred several times over the past week or two and to the point that its got me a bit bugged trying to figure out just what the hell it means. I keep dreaming about death, as in mine.

I have never expected to go out all quiet and peaceful like in my own bed or in my sleep, I tend to dance a little to closely on the edge of things for that to happen, but this is so damn clear that got me to actually doing some thinking. In my dream, I am walking up Eastman with my earbuds in and even the song is clear, "Long road Home" and I am wearing my favorite jeans and my fire dept sweatshirt,(which I hardly ever wear because its getting fragile),my leather jacket and my oldest boots, and my favorite black hat, and I have my new Washburn in the gigbag on my back headed back from somewhere downtown when a grey truck jumps the curb at the corner and hits me from behind as I am walking up the hill and spot G standing under a tree at the top of the hill. It was so damn vivid last night that I woke up this morning with my back hurting, seeing his face in my mind again. Its a bit disconcerting to be dreaming of getting smacked by a damn truck when I walk past that very spot today and there is evidence of previous accidents in that very spot. I am not one to go hedging my bets, so perhaps I will avoid that part of the road for a bit,though both of us know if its time for me to come a calling, I wouldn't be sorry to see you.

Ended up with another stray for the time being, someone dumped an odd little 6 toed cat on our front door step so we have taken her in until we either find her a new home or her owners or things settle down. Right now, her and our other cat arent getting along and its wearing us all down.

Dear Roger:The Names Have Changed To Protect The Guilty

Well Rog, I would apologize for it being a long time since I have written, but I know you would understand my reason, I am in the midst of a jag and its been damn hard to walk away from it. I finally started writing and it has just been pouring out of me. I found a way of distancing myself from the pain by changing the characters into men, and I am actually writing the 1st person view from his perspective, (hows that for fucked up?)I dont know if it will help me to understand his motivations any better, but I do know it keeps it all just far enough away that I dont fall apart writing it. I uploaded and published a teaser for it and the reviews and interest have been fantastic. In just 24 hours I have had over 200 hits and the reviews have been very, very positive which I find odd considering the teaser I threw up felt truncated and rushed to me. I have over 20k words done in the past 24 hours and I would have more done, but my eyes keep getting tired and I have to take a break. I was a damn song that finally got me to do it. I have been walking around with all that hurt and pain in me for so long, no way to get rid of all the shame and feeling of rejection and then I was just listening to my music at work, and I was sharing it with this chick who had never heard of my favorite band the 100 Monkeys. I played her my favorite song,"LDF" . I told her the story behind it and she said,"Wow, how brave of him to put that out kind of hurt out there." and I realized she was right, that kid is brave enough to show the entire world his and get rid of it, and it seems to be working for him, so dammit its time for me to show mine. I sat down and thought about the best way of doing things and it just started rolling. Chance realized something was up when he saw me typing constantly instead of just reading, and he asked me what was going on. I told him I was finally getting rid of some things and talking about it and he told me some things that surprised me.

"Aunt Trina hates him worse than any of the other men that you have ever dated,worse than Ed,worse than my father, she fucking HATES him, so does memaw and papa, I hate him too." I was shocked to hear that, My family never met him, my sister maybe met him once and my son was too young to remember him, but he got up and started pacing back and forth in that tense and trying not to cry way he has when hes really worked up, " Aunt Trina says he killed the best part of you, that when he got done playing with you, you didnt believe in yourself anymore. You stopped smiling and that you used to have this light in your eyes that told people you were going to set the world on fire,she says he is the one who put it out." She told me you disappeared for a while after you left Yuma and they thought you had killed yourself or just died of sadness, and when you finally resurfaced with Ed, they figured you had found someone to do the favor for you. He has been this cancer in you for most of my life, giving you just enough to give you hope, but never enough to make you healthy and happy. He killed the best part of you and he is why your eyes quit smiling. I dont blame Ed for the things he did so much, he was just dealing with a situation that was so fucked up that it would make any man crazy, I blame that son of a bitch for not making a clean break so you never wanted to see him again and could get on with your life."

When he first realized what I was writing, my son was upset, but then he saw how I was writing it, and what it was doing for me,and he has become supportive, even asking if he can read it,(NO, its very much a mature story) , but what gets me is how vividly the memories come flowing back and how easily I am able to twist them just enough to make it not hurt when I throw them out into the world. I threw up a couple of times after I published the first chapter. I am just not one for sharing my work, so its kinda a weird feeling putting it out where its meant to be seen and read and commented on and watching the comments and reviews come in. Its also very, very addicting, kinda like the few times I performed my poetry and did my motivational speaking on a large public sale and folks liked it, the feeling of standing up there on stage with people clapping and laughing when they were supposed to laugh was a powerful and wonderfully seductive thing, but that was when I was still able to do those things.

I am planning on posting a chapter a week, and writing it all out well in advance so that I dont leave my readers hanging, but the story really has no end and I am not sure how I am going to address that one.

Thanksgiving was an interesting affair. We ended up eating with my friends family and some of her friends in a kind of odd ,"Orphans" type of meal. I made mashed potatoes and rolls and deviled eggs, but due to my wisdom teeth blowing up on me I was doped up on Vicodin and beer trying to keep the pain to a dull roar, and I dont know if you remember, but Vicodin gives me the giggles and beer makes me talkative, add in an old man with a jar of pickles, my smart assed son, a pervy little rock star and his weird song called,"Jonesing for Pickels" and you have me getting a fit of the giggles so bad that I snorted potatoes through my nose, and fell out of my damn chair. They had to put that plate of pickles in front of me,Chance just had to raise his eyebrows and grin, and that was all she wrote. I ended up getting sent home early after I could not get it under control, because when that old man said,"Son, if you want a pickle I will give you one." well...you know, spitting soda across a table is just kinda frowned upon.

Christmas is going to be spent up here. We are starting are own little traditions as well as maintaining some of our old ones and the kids seem happy so far. We got our traditional Charlie Brown tree, and its a sorry looking little thing, but daughter had a good time decorating it. Our topper is new to us, and we decided in honor of our motivation for moving to Portland and for bringing the happy to us in our new lives, we have a monkey as our angel. Daughter calls it,"Kink Kong" and that never fails to crack me the hell up. Im ordering her presents today, shes getting some of her favorite bands stuff and the DVD of their tour. Its soo funny, I can remember when she loved blocks and baby dolls, but now she wants posters of her favorite little actor/singer and to wear his t-shirts and stuff, its a bit disturbing but I guess it could be worse.

My guitar will be here today!!!! yeah! If it survives shipping that is, I will be playing again tonight and picking out chords for one of the songs I wrote called,"Over-privileged,Dirty, White Boy Blues."

Dear Roger:Blushing at my Age and it Wasn't a Hot Flash.

Well its been a long week. It finally decided to get serious about getting cold and I ended up swiping Chances 2nd favorite hoodie to wear under my coat, just so I have something that will cover my ass. Its soo weird having a kid that is so much bigger than me.He is such a freaking moose that I have to wonder where the hell it comes from. I sometimes feel like I am shrinking as I get older, I never did get over 5'1 even when I stretch, and I hover around 107lbs .Chance is rapidly closing in on 6ft tall and is 170lbs! Hes not fat at all, in fact he likes to show off his six pack and his biceps.I found the funniest picture of him posing for a picture for his girlfriend where hes kissing his bicep like some kind of muscle head. I saved that picture for when he is older and has kids of his own...perfect blackmail material. We have been having some fun as a family, working at getting along better and trying really hard to have good times and understand where each other is coming from. I do still enjoy teasing him and playing pranks on him and he gets soo flustered when I get the best of him that I laugh about it for days. I got him so good the other day that he about peed his pants.

I saw he was walking up the sidewalk towards the apartment, and I stood right beside the door, not really hiding, just being very, very, still (something I am really good at), and he came through with his ear buds in, not paying attention and just in his own world.I waited until he had slammed the door and was into the kitchen and then I slipped up behind him and grabbed him.

Did you know that a teen boy whose vocal range hovers around that of a baritone,can actually reach soprano when you scare the piss out of them? He turned around with his hand on his chest, as pale as a ghost and yelled,"OH! MY! GOD! I soo want to kick your ass mom!!" But he got his revenge, because with yelling,"Oh my God", he got the song,"Wings on Fire" by 100 Monkeys, stuck in my head. I swear to God that song is like the ultimate ear worm for me, it gets in my head and wont stop for days and he KNOWS that, so after he calmed down a bit he told me he was going to get me back beyond getting the song stuck in my head, and bless his heart he has tried. He has hidden around corners,tried jumping out of closets, all kinds of things, but he is about as subtle as a bull elephant. The one good thing to come out of all of this prank playing though is that he is finally paying more attention to his surroundings. It worries me how unobservant he was to the world around him, and he even used to call me paranoid, but I have always found paying attention is the best way to keep safe and alive and more often than not, he has found me to be correct.

Waiting on small daughter to get home off the bus was interesting yesterday. I was standing down on the sidewalk, watching the cars on the road speed by, listening to my ipod and jamming along with my favorites and in a pretty decent mood when I saw this guy walking up the sidewalk. Now, most of the time the guys walking up the sidewalk are transients headed to the church down on the corner of Powell where they give out free food and other things that transients need to get along up here. Half the time they are a little drunk and always kinda grubby, but this guy? this guy was a vision. I initially glanced up and then looked back down, but then realizing what I had seen, I pretty much had to fight hard not to stare. He was so damn cute! He was maybe late 20's early 30's, well dressed in black with BOOTS! and he had a short, blonde crew cut. He was wearing sunglasses as he approached, but he took them off as he got closer and he had those kinda eyes that crinkle up in the corners when he smiles, and Rog, holy freaking hell...He fucking smiled! He smiled at ME! and oh my GOD...he had dimples and straight white teeth and he was gorgeous! I was just flat assed twitterpatted and I know I smiled back, but you know what? I blushed! Me! blushed! He really screwed me up when he said "Hi" and I fumbled trying to get my ear buds out. But I know I said "Hi" back at him, with my face still in flames. He kept walking down the sidewalk as if he was in a hurry to get somewhere, but I couldn't help myself, I just stared at him as he walked away and I saw him glance over his shoulder with a grin still on his face as if he knew exactly what he did to me. Blondes dont usually do anything for me, but I was still out of sorts over 10 minutes later when Chance came walking up. He asked,"What the heck is up with you, you look like you saw a ghost." I asked him if he saw the guy and he said ," Yeah, he was headed to the Max station, why? did he do something to you?" I told him that yeah, he smiled at me. I dont think its really very nice that he simulated vomiting, but hes a teen, I dont think I should have expected anything different. He found it funny as hell that I was still sort of blushing and goofy even later that afternoon.

I dont know who that guy was, or if he will ever come back by my waiting spot again, but I sure could use a rush like that everyday. Its good to know that something can still get me to feel alive.

I'm getting drug into doing Thanksgiving with Sus and her family. We were just going to go out, but Sus invited us and we probably should try to maintain some kind of traditional thing going on for small daughters sake. Christmas is going to be difficult, but we will get it figured out somehow.

I have decided to go back into EMS. Ive been kicking it around for years and its finally reached the point that I just need to do it. Even if I end up working in an Emergency Room as a tech for a while, I need to get back into that world. I miss the rush. Im not going to go back to being a cop, that is just too much of a mindfuck for someone that has my issues, but in EMS its just limited contact, get it done and get gone. I had thought about trying to go into private security or even being a bodyguard , but travel would be too difficult, so I have to do something that will allow me to stay in the Portland area. Im still writing some, and hopefully my guitar will arrive up here soon.

Dear Roger; Your Birthday Is Coming Up Dec 21st,If I Throw A Party Will You Come?

Well Rog, I do have a really good excuse for not writing sooner, I have been writing other things for the first time in a long damn time. I have written 3 songs and my novel has finally shown some damn progress for the first time in a long time. I have been doing my best to keep myself up and motivated, but this time of year just sucks the damn life out of me. I try not to be to morose for the kids, but if it was up to me, I wouldn't get a tree or anything. I am such a god damned selfish person in my heart, but my kids force me to be a decent human being for their sakes. So in the next week or two, I will scramble about and find some lil miserable Charlie Brown looking tree and we will make our own decorations, though I am going to ask the ex to send me up my raggedy assed patch work angel that Chance and I have had for close to 15 years, that is unless he has tossed it, and we will decorate it up like polite society expects me to, so Stevie will be happy. I am going to do the best to make sure they have some good things to enjoy under the tree, but fucking hell, as usual money is tight. I will get what I normally get...nada, and I am okay with that. If I get some time to write or read or listen to my music without that crap son calls music overriding it, I will be tickled pink, but mainly I will be happy to see all this mess behind me again until next year.

It dawned on me the other day that what would have been your 65th birthday is coming up on Dec 21st! Holy Hell, Rog. I can imagine what you would be like at 65, still that presence that gets the attention of everybody in the room we would walk into, still as dynamic and charming as ever. Probably traveling all over the place and making fantastic art. You would have been such a fantastic role model for Chance, he really needs you. I know you would be proud of the two daughters you raised, even though they weren't yours by blood, they honor your name and memory, as do I. So many times people ask me that stupid assed question, "If you could have one more day with any person in your life, who would it be?" Its always you. I never got to tell you that you were my lifeline through the tough times. I would trade decades of my life for more time with you, for the opportunity to have had you guide my son and be involved in my kids lives. My son reminds me of you at times. He has that presence thing going on, people notice him and he has that moody artistic temperament that we were accused of having. He thinks he cant draw, but he is one of those annoyingly talented kids that excels at sports, and in fact he has been scouted and recruited by a high tone prep school that wants him to play for them. He can pick up damn near any musical instrument just by piddling around with it for a while, and he was a really good bag pipe player and violinist until he got bored with them and quit. He sings at the drop of the hat, and dances all over the damn place. I love that he is exuberant and feels free to express himself. His fashion sense gives me fits, and I have a bit of a hard time letting go of that sometimes,(a problem I know you would be sure to help me with, much like you did mom) but his isn't wanting mohawks and Doc Martens with chains like I did, he wants to dress in a way that sends off the wrong impression. I wish you were here to smack me upside the head and tell me to get over it. Im alone. I hate that because this solo parenting of a teen boy shit is complicated. When you were around I didn't feel like I was alone, even if you were across the world, you would always seem to know when I needed a call to save me from my own personal brand of misery.

I spend a lot of time walking around up here listening to music and thinking about things. My counselor back in Flag would have approved of the fact that I am actually going outside and sort of interacting with the world now. I do talk to people on occasion in real life, but actual human contact is still pretty limited. Did you know I have not had a non-family hug in so long that I am actually kinda a little afraid of how I would react. Physical contact with a man has been even more scarce though I long for it with the burning want of 10million white hot suns, its gotten so bad that I even flirt with my young, gay neighbor pretty shamelessly just to see him blush and half in the hopes I might turn him.

I think we will celebrate your birthday this year by going out for Japanese food. I will introduce Chance to sushi and saki and I will tell him stories about the time you got that pinto up to 85 on Old Spanish Trail with me giggling like a fiend in the passenger seat and swearing I wouldnt tell grandma. I hope you will join us. I miss you soo damn much.

Tom Waits - The long way home

Dear Roger:I Tend To Wander On The Low SIde Of The Road

Wow,its been awhile hasn't it?I guess I wish I could say there has been a lot going on, but there hasn't been. I have just been fucking depressed and haven't really felt like writing as much. I get that way sometimes and I wallow in my misery by sitting out under the trees off my back deck, staring at the cars driving by on the road,smoking cigarretts until one of the kids demands I come in and pay attention to them.

I dont know why things started bugging me, perhaps it was all the horror movies,perhaps it was just too much time on my hands to think about all the things that I have done, the past and all the things that I have seen, but I started considering the fact that I have seen and handled horrors that most normal people cannot begin to comprehend. I am not normal, not by a long shot. I never have been. I have always been drawn to the dark and the grotesque, the freak shows and horror movies and things that would send normal people scurrying away in terror. I sought out and read dark things, hell, I have even written them.

I know things that most people do not know,like what a decomposed body really smells like, the sound a bloated body makes when it hits the ground after you cut it out of a tree, the feel of brains under your fingers, or how much pressure you have to use to puncture the vitreous humor of an eye to get the fluid.I have seen death in so many forms...accidental,planned,intentional,murder,natural and the looks on the faces of each and every one of the dead is still with me, especially the children. I cannot close my eyes at night without seeing each and every child I have ever picked up off the side of the road or out of their parents arms or off of some filthy floor. I can still feel the weight of their small bodies against me as I carried them to the body bags.

It bothers me that these memories stick with me clearer than some of my memories that I know would be happier. I have a hard time remembering many of the trips with my grandparents.Those were so long ago, but they were the bright spots of my youth. The one memory of a trip with them that does stand out is being in Whiteriver and seeing a native man fall out in front of a truck,that is very vivid in my mind.

I remember my father coming in and telling me that my very first crush had just been killed by a drunk driver.I even remember the smell on his clothes and how the house looked, where I was standing and how dark it was outside and that it rained for the entire next week. That memory is so strong it often haunts me at night, while the memory of his face and the times he spoke to me or I actually got to interact with him, are fading.

It seems that the memory of horror and fear has a very strong power to erase any of the happy memories that you might have. I know that I had some happy times with my eldest sons father, in fact the time we spent in L.A. was some of the happiest time in my life and I know that it must have been like a dream come true for me to have actually made it out there with a man who had actually been in movies and who knew his way around all the cool places I had only seen on tv,but almost all those memories were erased by the things he did to me later. All I remember when I see him in my memory is the shark like blank stare,the scalpel, the gun,his handcuffs, and that isolated little house he kept on the West Side with the deep hole in the back yard and the feel of his hands on my face. I still feel lucky to have escaped with my life and the scars and little glitches in my personality are a small price to pay.

The memories of my ex-husband are mostly of him with the straight razor to my throat and the look that was in his eyes...10 years and that is what I take away with me, the feel of a straight razor to my throat and the look of want in his eyes while my kids cried next to me on the bed. Fuuuck! is it any shock I have my days of down time?

I have been writing again, working on a novel for the Nainomo writing thingy and so far its progressing okay. I have also written a couple of songs, so I guess I am snapping out of it. A job change is in the works, the pet place is just not going to work out at all. Im tired of walking the 2.5 miles there only to be sent home because they cant find their asses with both hands and get me something to do.

You , Rog, are always strong in my memories...but the day you came to grandmas looking so tired and laid your head on her kitchen table and fell asleep is strongest in my memories because that is the day I knew our time was short. I miss you , I miss you soo much.

Fuzzy Monkeys

This is the biggest Jackson Rathbone fan alive. Dont let that cute lil smile fool you, touch the monkey or dis her monkey man and she will mess your butt up.

That monkey she has cuddled up to her?The monkey that I had to write a permission slip for so she could take it to school for picture day rather than deal with the trauma of a child that believed her monkey would be sad if he wasnt included? Thats her "Jackson" its been to 2 concerts and it goes to church with her,sleeps in her bed, and on all trips. There is a picture of her with the real deal and this goofy monkey. She loves them both. Family members have found out that its best not to ask if she loves Jackson more than them, she will answer honestly and they wont like her answer.

Small things work small miracles,shes a happy kid again. She smiles and laughs and demands to know when her 'Boy" is coming back for another show. I just smile and tell her that he is busy being working and she will see him when he gets back this way, but that she has to share him.Its not what she wants to hear,but she knows there are worse answers to things.

I will miss this age when she grows out of it, that sweet, innocent, first love when your hero is 10 ft tall and bullet -proof and can do no wrong, I wish she would remain this unjaded forever.I am doing my best to protect these fleeting days, I remember when I had a hero and I still cant stand to hear him spoken ill of, so I will give her this time to adore hers, its important.

Dear Roger; Why In The Hell Am I Living Under Murphys Law?

What a fecking month! First off, I finally manage to get a couple of jobs and I am pretty damn happy that they are fairly low maintenance, dont require much thinking, pay is tolerable, type of jobs, but the one downside is that I seem to be dealing with folks that cant find their butts with both hands when it comes to getting paperwork processed,or scheduling or even getting folks paid on time!I was supposed to have a couple of paychecks under my belt by now, which would really come in handy right about now, but someone dropped the damn ball and it will now be another two weeks before I get paid. The other job cant seem to get me scheduled properly because I read really fast and I am ripping through the training that they think should take nearly 60 hours, in less than a week, so I am having to wait for the rest of the chuckleheads they hired to catch up with me. I dont believe in padding the time clock or just sitting there wasting time, so I read the materials, did the tests and now they dont know what to do with me while the others struggle through. Soo, I screwed myself a bit there because I could use more hours.

I haven't worked around the general public yet, I am spending most of the time working in the back or setting up visuals and displays, so its a lot of grunt work that is not too exciting, and its also really physically demanding because I work with a bunch of girly girls who aren't used to doing a lot of heavy lifting so I am the one that is ending up doing all the huge, heavy work.I am glad I am capable, but I am also coming home pretty damn tired. Add in the fact that one of the lil chicks felt fit so share her cold with me and its been real fun hacking and snotting all over the place when I am trying to get out and meet a man!

Its still been a social ghost town around here for me, and that is so fucking frustrating that I am about to lose my mind. I have been getting out more, I am in excellent shape, in fact I am pretty damned skinny and I am getting toned . My boobs are looking great and I dress up whenever I go anywhere, so I dont look like some scrub that crawled out of a laundry hamper, but while I have gotten lots of looks, and I have flirted more than a few times, I end up spending my weekends and nights alone. I have to say that this is the longest sexual drought I have been in for my entire adult life. I have always been able to find a companion or even a "Friend with benefits" that was willing to take care of business for me when I felt the need, but not for the past couple of years and I really cant figure out what the issue is that makes me so unapproachable, by men that is. I have been hit on almost constantly by women, but when it comes to men...thhhpt, buptkas,nada and I am to the point of wishing I could just rent one for a bit.Chance finds it highly amusing I get hit on by women, and he says that the men avoid me because I look at them like I want to either,"Beat the hell out of them or eat them". Thats not whats on my mind, but maybe a close proximity?

Soo, anyhoo...Ive gotten almost all my paperwork in for my Masters program to start back up in January and I will be glad to have my brain back working on something that I actually care about. I have a story working in my head and I have been jotting down the outline for it, so hopefully I will have it ready to flesh out pretty soon, but I have to remember that when you are working on an outline for a story that has a woman with two kids who fled Domestic Violence to a new place because of a rock band, only to find out that she has terminal cancer and has less than 6 months left to live, DONT LEAVE THE NOTES WHERE YOUR KID CAN FIND THEM! Poor Chance freaked the hell out and I still haven't gotten him convinced its a fiction story. So I guess I have to keep my next doctors appointment just to give him peace of mind.

A DIFFERENT FOREST: Fine Monkey Lovin

A DIFFERENT FOREST: Fine Monkey Lovin

Check it out on "A Different Forest"

Dear Roger: As Good As I Once Was?

Its been a long dang week! I started back to a real damn job or two and it came pretty damn close to kicking my butt. I got to say though, getting out and around people again seems to agree with me and I enjoy being busy, especially this month. Working the night shift was a good way for me to slide back into things because folks tend to be a little more relaxed and casual about things. One of the gals I work with is a smoker and we went and hung out for a bit, smoking and talking about random things, including how we both get nagged at over our smoking habit. The work doesn't require much thinking, and it changes from day to day, so there will be something to keep my interest, the only down side is that they seem to have figured out that I am pretty strong, in fact they have already tapped me to load couches and other furniture when there was a guy around! My boss said its because I move with a confidence and way of moving that just says," Strength".That kinda cracked me up, but I guess they are right, that and the fact I dont worry about breaking a nail or smudging up any makeup.

My other job is just in the orientation stage, and its a bit aggravating due to the fact I am having to deal with slower learners. If they would just let me log onto the system from my laptop at home and go through all their company specific stuff, I would be done with all their requirements and ready to start their proprietary training so that I would be good to go by the holiday push, but they insist that I come into the office and sit in their breakroom and use the one computer they have, so I have to share it with 4 other people who are also new hires. As you finish each section of the information, you test over it and if you pass, you move on. I finished a weeks worth in one day and I am ready to move on to the next level, but the others are having difficulty and that is bogging up the works!I am off work for the next week because the others need the time to try and catch up with me.I am going to be training and rehabilitating large breed, rescue dogs, so its not like this is my first rodeo.I know what I am doing, I have done it before and I have a lot of experience at it, but they have their way they want things done, so I will have to play their game until things are lined out.

The first day of work was a tough one on me,I had to be at one job from 7p til 3 am and then up again at 6 am to get the kids up for school, then walk the 2.5 miles to my other job by 8am to work until 1pm then walk the 2.5 miles back home to meet daughters bus by 230, then cook dinner,clean house and get kids settled for the night so I could get up to go to work by 8 am the next morning. I was just a little bit on the tired side by the time things were all said and done.

I enjoyed it, even if I was a bit tired. My son is a bit worried about me walking so far in the dark once my schedule gets set in a month or two, but I am not really worried.The key to being safe when you are walking at night is to look just a little meaner and crazier than everything else out there and people tend to stay away from you. I am well able to manage that.

Tomorrow my son plays his next football game and I am soo looking forward to seeing it! He is supposed to get to start as a tackle this time and if his enthusiasm is half as much as it was last game, it will be a pretty exciting game.

I made it though yesterday. I cried a few times,but I have hope that someday my heartache will ease. Folks keep telling me that there is a man out there looking for me, I just have to be willing to see him.

Dear Roger: Love the One You Are With, I Wish My One Was With Me

This song always takes me back to him...that time,that place. Its 28 years today when my whole world imploded.Nothing was the same for me after that, and perhaps it was the torture of having to drive past the spot where he died every single day until I left that God forsaken place,that left such a scar on my soul...I dont know. He still lives in my memories as that perfect,beautiful, boy that I had the worst crush in the world on, and I have to wonder what my life would have been like if hadn't been murdered and I had perhaps stood a chance.

So much was taken from so many that day, parents lost sons, another young man lost his peace of mind and wallowed in survivors guilt for over 20 years in drugs and alcohol.I have lived with the loss of the first boy I ever truly loved with all my heart. If you have your "One" in your life, love them extra well today, some of us were never that lucky.

Dear Roger; Taking Applications For a Submissive,Do I Have To Be EEOC?

You know, sometimes if you wait long enough and bide your time, you can get the best pay back on a cheating sumbitch that you could have never imagined. When Chance was just a little baby,I was with a boy that I loved with all my heart. He was younger than me,and truthfully he was a bit of a mommas boy and kinda immature, but he was fun and we had a fantastic sex life and social life and we did all kinds of things together. He wasnt Chances father, but he was with me all through the pregnancy and he was for all intents and purposes the only daddy my baby boy knew for the first couple of years of his life, and my son bonded with him and loved him. But something started happening after I became a cadet in the police academy.He started becoming distant and he would miss dates or just not show up or return calls. He strung me along for months, letting me think that everything was just in my head and due to stress. Then, when the stress of the academy was at its peak, I found out he had been cheating on me and had in fact told people he had broken up with me when he had failed to let me know that little bit of information! So on Valentines Day, right before the end of the academy, I finally get a text from him telling me it was over and I should leave him alone. He didnt even bother to tell my son goodbye.

I was devastated, and I figure that is what he was going for, so after I allowed myself an epic night out of drunken karaoke with my lesbian firefighter friends, I started on the path of revenge by dating his boss.Now in all fairness, I had a mad,huge crush on his boss, and his boss had also had his heart broken by a cheating POS , so we were both pretty gunshy, but you would have thought the apocalypse had rained down on my ex's head when the rumors of who I was seeing reached him. He started calling and coming by and flirting, but I just played coy. I should also mention that though I had been in good shape, I got in GREAT shape around this time, the type of shape that allows you to wear booty shorts and sports bras out in public and nothing else. I ran 2 miles a day, I swam 30 laps each morning and afternoon and I set my benchpress record of 200lbs in this time. drove a cool truck that stood out, I dressed sharp and I went out and was seen all over the place so he knew just what he was missing, and where my truck was parked on the nights I had my dates with his boss. He ended up quitting his job because he believed he was being unfairly ostracized by the department,(he wasnt, he was just really getting paranoid)and he ended up marrying the girl he had cheated on me with, and in a true act of just desserts, she cheated on him!

Move forward another 13 years, I moved on. Lived and endured things that have probably been way worse on me than he was, but alot of what he did to me ego wise, impacted my future decisions and I still bear a bit of a grudge, though I dont let him know that, because you see...through the wonder of the internet, he found me on Facebook and sent me a friend request, and because I was curious, I accepted it. I say with no little glee, that he got fat, bald, and he is still blaming most of his problems on everybody but himself. Hes married, got a couple of little kids and his wife seems like the good type. He went though my photo albums and commented that he thought I looked really good and that I had really stayed in shape. Well, I didnt know what to say other than I had always worked to stay healthy and in my,"Fighting shape". I really thought the conversation was a bit inappropriate for a married man to be having with a single woman, but I let it go and strung him along a bit to see where his mind was at, and it turns out he hasn't changed at all.

So I have decided to torment him with what he will never have again,with a few interesting additions. My sis and I have always loved a good practical joke,in fact the more outrageous the better and we have often come close to giving each other heart attacks over the years with some of the stuff we have done. She has called me pretending to be a jealous wife on more than one occasion, and I may have called her with lab results telling her she was pregnant with twins. She knows I dont have caller id on my home phone so she uses that to her advantage and she called yesterday trying to pretend that she was a publicity agent for a certain young star I am partial to. I am highly skeptical and cynical by nature and when I said, 'Ill believe you when he trots his cute young ass to my door with a bow around his neck" and she got the giggles cussing me out saying, "What they hell would you have done if someone woulda knocked on your damn door right then?" truth? gone out the back door with a fit of the runaways, lie I told her? "Sent the kids to the neighbor and drug whoever the hell was at the door in for the shock of their life.' Anyway , sis knows what a mindfuck that fool did to me, so we concocted a plan to pay him back a little more and last night I got to start it. He popped up in FB chat and asked me what I was up to, and I said,'Shopping for some toys and booking my appointment with my piercing guy". He was quiet for quite a long while and I thought that he had signed off, but he finally said, 'What are you going to get pierced?" I getting both nipples done next week after my waxing appointment. this time he came back really quick with ,"WHAT?! WHY? FOR WHO?!" Im getting my nipples pierced because I am exploring some things for ME. He went for snarky next, "So are you a lesbian now?" No, quite the opposite, I liken the dicken quite a bit, I am just taking control of things a little better. I actually could just about hear him getting hard from almost 1800 miles away. 'So you are getting yourself waxed and pierced and are buying toys?" yes. "What are you getting into?" I have decided to find a submissive. "whoooooaaaa.......I could totally see that being something you could do." why? "Well you were always very edgy and tough, all I gotta say is I wish I was closer." you are too old and you arent in good enough shape."So what are you looking for?" I decided at this point to really break it off in him and leave him drooling on himself with all kinds of thoughts that would have him sitting up until the wee hours of the morning contemplating just what he had let get away. Well, my age limits are no younger than 23, no older than 35,between 5'9-6'3 150-220 height and weight proportional, cant be bald, must have endurance and be articulate and self-supporting and able to follow instructions, preferably with tattoos so I know hes capable of enduing at least a reasonable amount of pain, and I would prefer him to not be looking for a relationship. "What! you aren't looking for a relationship?" Outside of being my sub? no I dont want the hassle of some boy expecting me to change who and what I am to accommodate him at this point in the game. He was quiet for a long time and I know he was sitting there either spanking it or pricing plane tickets to Portland, but I was doing my best to not crack the hell up and thanking God that I have a much better poker face for this kinda thing than my sis. When he finally came back, I knew he had bought it, hook line and sinker..."Soo what are your hard limits?" LOL, the fool had been on Google trying to catch me in a lie so I upped the ante. The typical, no blood or body fluids of any kind, no choking or edge/needle play (DUH! he knows my knife issues), safewords are a must, written contract, health checks on both with testing required every 90 days, I prefer someone with previous experience. That little paragraph shut him up for quite a while because he didnt expect me to have a solid reply so quickly,(gotta say all the BDSM and Slash fic I have read have paid off in spades!) and I was dying laughing picturing his face as he read it. I knew it was time to leave him wondering, so I abruptly said, kid barfing, ttyl

Leaving that way, he could not be sure if I was telling the truth or just cutting him off, so he left a message,"Oh, okay...talk to you more later, okay?" maybe...after I let him sit and wonder and dwell for a few days.