Dear Roger: Some Things Are Just Better Said,Out Loud

Last night was an odd night to say the least. My son and I were actually hanging out together on the couch, just kinda doing our own things. He was playing some goofy online game and I was writing another chapter on my story,"The Face In The Rear View Mirror", when he looked at me and asked me what I was writing. I told him and for once he asked me,"Can I read it?" I was shocked. No one in my family has ever expressed an interest in any of my writing. I mean they know I write. I have talked about it for years, and my sister saw me perform my Cowboy Poetry,once. But none of them have ever asked to read it, or have shown the least inclination to find out what exactly it is that I spend my time working on. My son especially, though he did, by accident, read a little bit of the slash fic I write and he was somewhat traumatized to discover that his mom has knowledge of such things. So when he asked me if he could read 'Face" it caught me off guard. Its all stored online and in my computer, so I offered to read it to him instead, and he grinned at me, "Aunt Trina told me that is the best way to hear your stuff, so Yeah! I would like that." That also kinda shocked me. I didn't know my sis even remembered seeing me perform.

Rog, if you have never been to a "Cowboy Poetry" performance, its a little "Different" than you were probably used to. Its 1 part poetry, and 3 parts theater. Think Will Rogers style of story telling. It was fun and I miss doing it, but there is just not much call for it up here, though after last night, son was really encouraging me to look into getting back into it.

So anyway, I started at the first chapter and I began reading. I didn't just read it in a monotone, I read it in voice with emotion and everything and son went from staring at his computer screen to staring at me with a funny look on his face, and the next thing I know he had tears in his eyes. "Holy Crap, MOM!" I was there, I knew exactly where that was, I could see it all. Those things happened! You made it soo damn real! He was laughing and he asked,"Do you have more?" I told him I had 3 more chapters done and he said,"Well? read em!" But he wanted an idea of what the boy looked like, so I showed him a picture that was a rough approximation, and had him use his imagination to picture a few things different, like hair a little lighter and the nose that turned up on the end just a bit.

He put his computer down and I continued on with the next chapter and I had his full attention as I read, and when I did the voices he looked at me with something that I have rarely seen in my sons eyes,surprise.He laughed a lot during the second chapter and then he asked me,"Mom, why did you stop performing your poetry? Why didn't you go into acting? You are good! He made me laugh. I told him because being able to read a story that impresses a kid in the safety of my own living room is a hell of a lot different than being up in front of several hundred people on a stage where mistakes are not easily forgiven. I didn't want to starve, and besides, I had a kid to support. He just sat there shaking his head and saying,"Wow!" until I asked if he wanted to hear the rest of the story, and he gave the typical teenager response,'Duh!"

I read him the last couple chapters I had written and he laughed and even cried as he listened to me, until I said, "And thats all I have for now." He looked at me and said,"Mom, you have to let Aunt Trina read these, she would love them! My friends would love them! These stories are awesome, and they made me so homesick for Texas but they also took me back there too." He went on and on for a minute and then he asked, "Do you have any other stories that you can read to me?" I told him I had a couple, but that they were kinda mature content. He said," Well, could you read me the story up to where they start talking about sex and then stop?" So we sat out on the couch, with me reading my stories to him until the wee hours of the morning and he was blown away that his mom isn't just sitting here reading ,"Monkey Porn", I am writing some of it, but that I am also writing some things that he actually enjoys reading.

I am still a bit stunned. My son likes my work. He likes hearing me read it. I know he always comes out and watches when I perform 'Where The Wild Things Are" for sis and he seems to get a kick out of it, but jeeze, Ive only been doing that for close to 15 years, so I can do it in my sleep. He mentioned recording me reading my stuff to send to my sis and I dont know if I am comfortable with that. I know my son, he can be devious and I wouldn't put it past him to youtube me and that would not make me happy.So I think I will just save our living room readings for that, the living room, and share my stories with him while he is still interested and revel in the fact I have at least one fan in the family.

Dear Roger: Defining Me As A "Cool Mom?" I Dont Think I Would Say That

My son and I have our moment when we are able to have deep conversations about things that you and I used to talk about, and its in these moments that I find myself most trying to emulate you and actually draw from the lessons I learned from you.

Its not easy being the parent of a teen boy. He is a moody, difficult, and often volatile man child that seems to sometimes forget that his baby sister, who even though she got tested and proven to be a fecking genius, is just a little girl who is barely out of kindergarten. He is often ravenous, eating seemingly his weight in food in a day and then looking for more, stinky and sometimes secretive and flighty. He has taken to practicing his guitar for literally HOURS on end, and he has come up with some interesting "mash-ups" of many songs, playing them fluidly in ways that boggle the mind, and even creating his own riffs, yet when I ask him to work with me on writing music to go with some song lyrics I have written, he blushes and freezes up and says,"Mom, im not that talented and I would just mess your stuff up."

Hes talented, but he doesn't see it, though he has enough arrogance going on to realize that he is a good looking kid and he tries to capitalize on that with some of his teachers. I have even heard him flirting with some adults to try and get his way! He has managed to get meals and drinks and things like that by just batting his eyelashes at store clerks or working his dimples! He admitted that to me the other day when he came home with a soda when I knew he didn't have any money.I asked him how he got it and he said,"Oh, the lady who is the manager at the restaurant likes me so she gives me stuff from time to time when I go in there with my friends. I just kinda talk a little like thiiis (he turned on the Texas drawl) and I smile and she gives me a soda or some fries." Roger, I about lost my damn mind! I know where he learned that little bit of manipulation and its partially my fault because we had a conversation about it a while back.

We were talking about my favorite little fella and how he had gone from being a Texan to being a "Coon-ass" Louisiana boy. I had commented that playing to the occasion and turning up the accent to charm and work whatever crowd might be around, was a clever way of staying on top of things and while some folks might not like it, I didn't mind because its all part of being in that line of work. I guess my son pays a little more attention to things than I had thought, because apparently he is working it too. Jesus wept Rog, its not fair to unleash that kinda stuff on women. Son has been in a growth spurt again and he no longer has to stand on his toes to look on top of the damn fridge. He just looks and he can see if I have any chocolate stashed up there or stray cash. He went through 2 boxes of cereal in two days, a gallon of milk and a box of twinkies along with his regular meals, so food is a definite issue around here, along with buying him clothes.

He has asked about getting a job, and while I am not thrilled with the idea of him working, I guess as long as he keeps up with his schoolwork I really cant forbid it anymore than I can him growing up. He needs money for some of his own stuff, and I could use the financial break from having to buy him new jeans every month. He is also going through guitar strings really fast. He made the last set last a lot longer than they should have, and he was pretty disconsolate that his guitar sounded so crummy because I couldn't afford to buy him new strings for so long. If hes putting in the effort to practice and get good by playing for 4-5 hours a day, then the least I could do is try to indulge him that little bit.

He has started letting me hug him again! Thats a good thing because he went through that whole , "Im a guy and too big for my mom to be hugging on." so I had missed getting hugs for quite a while. Now he often grabs me and hugs me before he leaves for school in the morning and we ALWAYS say a hearty round of ,"I love you's" each and every day.

He told me I am a,"Cool mom", and I asked him why he would say that? I often doubt my job as a mother. In fact I feel I have failed on so many levels. I have made horrible choices in men, we are chronically poor and he has had to do without a father, a safe and stable home, and many of the things that normal kids have in their lives. I am moody, often self-centered, and often sick or dealing with stress or health issues that make me difficult to be around, but my son tells me that he has never doubted that no matter what, no matter if he was the biggest pain in my ass or if he failed or if he made mistakes or even if he was mean to me, he knew I loved him. He said he knew that no matter who he chose to love, I would love him and eventually them(his girlfriend is growing on me), but if he had been gay I would have loved him the same. I never falter in my love and devotion to those I care about because of things like that and it has made an impact on him. He now thinks the same way. I commented about a daughters love of a certain young rock star being something that is going to lead to a rude awakening for her some day, and he said,"Yeah, but she loves him no matter what and you do too and that just means you have raised her right and that you are a cool mom." I dont know when I became so open minded about these things, maybe it was after realizing that all the secrecy is what killed Robert and all the bigotry and hate is what I resented in my father, or maybe it was just realizing that love is love is love and whatever side of the biscuit that someone butters is just their business and if they are lucky enough to have love in their life, then they should be allowed to enjoy it as long as they are both consenting adults.

My dating is going well. I have met a guy that didn't flinch and run away screaming when I tried to scare him off and it looks like I will be seeing him again. Hes not some young hottie, but hes funny and smart and an artist so we will be able to have a pint or two together and chat about things.

Dear Roger;Who Knew It Would This Difficult To Get Laid?

So I am full force back into the dating world I guess you might say, and its pretty interesting. Men are a little different or maybe I am different. Not wanting a man around full-time kind of puts me on a different footing with them than I used to be, and though I enjoy their company, I can be much more picky than I used to be. I really want a younger guy to pal around with and kind of just have a casual, "Friends with benefits" thing, but it seems that its difficult to find such a critter up here. The two guys I have gone out with so far have been interesting, and I had a nice time, but there was no real spark or chemistry and to be brutally honest, I want a man that is just gonna want to make me jump him in the bushes. Its been so long since I had a good solid trouncing, that I just really cant even think straight about half the damn time. Seriously, women get those urges too and its really kind of difficult to get through the day, seeing all these hot young men scrolling across my desktop on my computer, and realizing that my only source of relief might be a few moments alone in my shower with a bargain basement shower head.

I am in shape. I dont stink. I cant get knocked up. Im not diseased. SOO...WHAT. THE. HELL?

I am just about to the point that I would pay for it, but I am poor, so I would have to pay for low rent pecker, and God only knows what that would result in...

I registered on a dating website after being cajoled into it by a friend of mine, and its resulted in some interest, but the results have been...odd? I have some things that are deal killers. If I write in my ad that I am looking for a guy that is capable of carrying on at least a coherent conversation and who is fit enough to survive a date with me, and a guy responds with an email that I cant even translate with my teen helping me, and the picture looks like something off of the beginning of the "Biggest Loser"(dont watch that crap, have only seen the commercials), then I am just going to hit delete), so I dont end up wasting his and my time. I dont have a bias against heavy guys, but I want a guy that can keep up with me, and if we weighs 300lbs, that aint going to happen.

My first date was interesting. He was a hot little Romanian guy that I would have gladly drug off into the bushes. He has this smile with dimples and green eyes and hes in great shape and...oh my goodness does he WEAR HIS JEANS! but...hes old fashioned, traditional, doesn't speak English so good, and it would be a LOT of work to get the point across to him that I just want uh...you know? It sounds terrible, but I have some guys I can talk to now. That is so nice. We talk music and art and Bukowski, Waits,guitars , beer, guns, cars and dirty jokes, and hopefully we will meet up and have a beer and a smoke soon at Kells. I miss hanging out with guys and especially guys that are younger minded and full of fun. I am working on getting back into the world I left, and maybe that will solve my lack of pecker problem, but the whole dating thing is so different than it used to be it kinda freaks me out.

I dont like guys that are into sports too much,I dont like guys that are prejudiced against homosexuals or other races, or guys that are rude to people. Im just freaking picky I guess. I like guys that are a bit weird and quirky and free spirited and most of all funny and able to laugh at themselves. I like guys with hair. The guy I went out with yesterday was a shaver, as in he shaved his head, and I was a bit disappointed. I mean, I like a guy with hair for a reason. I dont care about the color or the style or anything like that, but I like him to have some.Tattoos are nice, I have tattoos that arent flash tell me that there is an edge to him, kinda like me. Piercings are interesting, depending on the location, but the one thing I really dont care for are the ear vagina's. I dont get the whole,"Lets make the ear lobe have this HUGE gaping hole that will hang and look really weird when I am old" thingy...its a bit gross and kinda a deal killer. Im not a big drinker, but I will have a Guinness with pretty much anybody. Dont like big fancy dates, and Im not impressed by fancy dinners out. I prefer to meet and have coffee somewhere so we can sit and talk and I can see if there is that spark of interest that will fuel the fire. I haven't felt it often, and the few times I have felt it,its been when there was no chance of it being lit and burned. The slow burn I used to have is still there and still so far away. I miss it, and perhaps that is what keeps me from being willing to settle for less the perfect burn, but I do know I wish that something would come along that would light me up and make me forget all about the old embers.

Dear Roger:Being Myself? Oh Boy...I Was Hoping For A Second Date

So tomorrow is the date with the banana suited guy and I have to say I am actually nervous about it. I swear and be damned I am not changing who I am for any man because I dont want a ,"Keeper", that I just want a "Friend with benefits", but this guy impressed me. He has a brain and wit and a sense of humor and he offered me intellectual stimulation on top of all the potential for physical stimulation. I kinda want to try and maybe have a second date and maybe a third. What the hell? I dont want any man around for more than a tumble no matter how cute and alluring and talented he is ...right? I am so set in my ways, so misanthropic, that even my friends know that showing up or staying around too long is a bit of a no go with me. I just get edgy and kinda tense and then I get quiet and nervous. I just dont handle people well, but thinking about wanting a MAN around? That is just crazy!I sleep sideways across my bed,(when I actually make it to it), or I sleep out on the couch. Im moody when I am writing and I often mutter and sometimes pace back and forth and rant or curse and wad up paper and throw it at seemingly nothing. I have adult ADD and that makes even me crazy at times. I will go from cleaning to kitchen and cooking dinner to writing to sketching to talking to my son to putting away laundry to working on the computer to checking the mail to rearranging furniture, all within 10 minutes. I have 5-6 stories I am writing at a time, songs that I am working on so I strum on the guitar and curse and mutter and argue with it when I cant get it to sound like I want. I fill up a sketch book and throw it away, I go without talking to people for weeks, sometimes even months. I am a terrible friend. I am still jumpy about physical contact and with my issues with my wisdom teeth, I am sure that I have death breath even though I practically have sonicared the enamel off my teeth and I should own stock in the company that makes scope.

My fashion sense is odd to say the least. I wear jeans and boots almost constantly. My jeans are either blue or black and I no longer have an ass I have been told. I guess it finally fell the rest of the way off. I am skinny, very skinny, as in can shop in children's sizes skinny. I stick with a size 3-5 but I can wear a size 1 or a kids size L. It pisses me off because its not fair. I have had 5 freaking kids! I should have curves! My ass should not be missing at this point in my life. So my jeans, while I try to wear them tight or at least fitting, are often a little baggy in the ass. I do still have nice boobs, that is my one saving grace. My hair is growing out and is that weird in-between place that cannot decide where the hell it is going. but it is blonde with what I am told natural highlights and tones that people pay big bucks to get put in. My tattoos are in need of touch-ups and one just needs repairs, but on the bright side my adult onset acne is mostly cleared up! yeah! As for shirts...I dont wear t-shirts so much anymore, but I have been told I look like a Domme with my banded collar shirts and black short jackets and silver studs and straps and such. Welllll, I dont know what to say about that. I guess I am a bit dominant in my personality and my wardrobe reflects that, so why should I change that? I am not a pastel kinda girl. I am a black and red and leather and metal kinda person. I would like a second date unless this guy is a stinky booger eater, but I cannot surrender too much of who I am. I will leave my hat at home, fix my hair a bit, wear my best boots and shave my legs,(im going to be a slutty optimist), and hope for the best.

Dear Roger: Men are Bad For Muses

Well I am living proof of the write/artists conundrum. It seems that the more I start to get involved with things of the human realm, the less my writing flows. Its really aggravating.I really understand why misanthropy and and antisocial behavior run in artistic types, because when we start getting all interested and involved with real people, and maybe, perhaps...HAVING SEX!!(GOD PLEASE??!!), the artistic muse hauls ass to some other poor soul that has nothing else going on. Considering that I have only just gone on ONE real date, and talked to a few guys, and defiantly NOT had anything even resembling anything CLOSE to sex, YET, or even a kiss. I find it disgustingly unfair that my muse has fled me and if I could hunt him down I would probably kick him a few times in his peach pits just for the hell of it. Yes, my muse is something I actually picture and argue with or rant at and it has a visual representation that morphs and changes depending upon my mood. Hes male though, and just as arrogant and temperamental as any damn male I have ever tried to work on any project with. This probably has deep psychological implications, chalk it up to "daddy" issues or the whole personality quirk that I have that makes me more of an Alpha female that just could never work with a woman anyway, but my muse being a guy has always been a bit of a source of comfort even though he irritates me at times like this.

I tried writing today, but after I got out my pencil and paper and sat for a bit and it just didn't come pouring out, I knew it was time to put the pencil and paper away and just people watch. If it doesn't just come burning out of me like a forest fire tearing up the side of a mountain destroying the empty paper in front of it, then its not worth putting down. Some nights I wake up with ideas in my subconscious, and in the morning when I stagger my bleary way towards the coffee maker in the kitchen, I often stop to scrawl them on the bedside table if I haven't already scribbled them on my arm or the wall. Those ideas, those are the ones that often work. They are the songs that I looked at today and went,"WHOA!, I fucking wrote that?" I looked them over again and I usually edit shit to death, correcting my spelling or my grammar or my handwriting weirdness, but these songs I wrote...they were pretty damn good, but the thing is I wrote them when I was heart broken and thinking I was never going to move forward. I dont know what I am going to do with them. My son might want to record them some day, he kinda likes,"Over-privileged, Dirty,White Boy Blues", and he thinks "Burning With You" is heartbreaking, and not something he COULD sing because he knows the back story. Maybe I will try to sell them, maybe I will just burn them. I dont know. I have books and books of stuff I have written over the years that will never see the light of day because nobody gives a damn. Im working on losing the morose and sad because the funny has been all over the place up here lately.

Talking to a guy that likes Charles Bukowski and Tom Waits as well as the Monkey men? Hell Rog, if that isnt some weird kinda serendipity at work I dont know what the hell is. I will gladly send my muse on vacation for a while. He could use a tan and some meat on his bones and I could use a good attic dusting. Maybe while he is gone I will gain a new outlook on life.

Dear Roger; Custom Made Man Or is God Playing Pranks?

Okay, I went on a date with "Eastern Promises" accent guy! We met over at a bar near my place and talked for a few hours and it was interesting and exciting and a huge deal to me because I actually managed to psyche myself up enough to follow though and actually go out and meet the guy. It was very hard to sit across from him and talk to him when all I could thing about was how I would really rather drag him out to the back of his car for a quick and dirty. Yeah, its been a long time and I have sex on the brain. I thought I wasn't interested in a relationship and really I am not into a long draw out courtship kinda thing and he is actually an old fashioned , traditional, take it slow kinda guy.He was cute,didnt speak a whole lot of English and has had an interesting life, but I just dont know. I feel like I am car shopping. The whole thing was kinda awkward and weird and we really didn't have a lot to talk about when it got down to it, so I politely looked at my phone, commented he looked tired, and said that I should be getting home. He insisted on escorting me,which I found amusing, and we went our separate ways. He may or may not show up for coffee tomorrow morning, but I am fine with that because I had such an interesting thing happen today.

I got a message in my Gmail account from a guy, and it said, " hey" And included with the message was a picture of a guy in a banana suit. I was intrigued. I figured if he was crazy enough to send me that, then "Why not?" So I emailed him back. We spent the rest of the day talking back and forth and its like he was designed for me. He is snarkily funny, weird and he understands when I use 3 syllable words. He likes Bukowski and Waits and he even backed up those claims by citing his favorites selections and we DISCUSSED!! It was amazing. He is in the same career field I was in and we have so much in common it blows me away. I cannot believe he is real. He even admitted liking the 100 Monkeys. No straight, normal, grown man admits liking them, but he was even able to discuss lyrics and songs and such. I was stunned and a little afraid I was being set up. Maybe someone is playing a sick joke on me and he is an amalgamation of all my dream men in one perfect creature. His picture shows a fit looking fella,with eyes that gleam with mischief, but his face is not clear in the picture. Im not so worried about his looks, his brain is interesting and his humor is great and I am so thrilled to have someone to talk to. We went from emailing back and forth to texting back and forth and we are meeting this week to have a date. I am excited. I hope hes real. But if not, its just another step along the path that has been exciting and invigorating.

Its been fun and I am enjoying just talking to men again if nothing else.

Dear Roger; Flailing About Awkwardly,Adopting Strange Accents, Kicking Crutches: or How I Know I Am Doing Better

Amazing day. Actually a couple of amazing days. I think I am getting better Rog, even if I am not ever going to be a totally normal human being, capable of functioning in polite society, I have made progress that for me is a sign I am getting back to my kind of ,"Normal". Folks commented that lately I have kinda been not as attentive to the lil fella that I kinda have clung to like a talisman this past year, and in fact I had even teased him in a couple of my letters to you. Now thats not exactly true. I did say I was worried and I commented he was to damn skinny in my letters to you, but yeah, in a couple of Twitter conversations I had said some things that were teasing in nature, but hell... with all the bromance that has been flowing around it was just par for the course. I tease my own damn son about that kinda stuff. Anyhow, when this wild ride first started, I would have never done that. Him and his band of merry pervs were the wall I hid behind and the way I communicated with the world. Nothing got around that to touch me. I didnt venture outside the world of the MP3, the laptop, the video and as long as everything was "Out there" I was able to communicate and enjoy them and the things that revolved around them. But then my world changed and I ended up drug up here to Portland and it was terrifying.

It would have been more terrifying to stay, and likely someone would be dead, but shit happens and I boarded that train with my kids and those tickets and that wall changed into a path into the sunshine,(really a weird analogy considering this is Portland and it RAINS all the fucking time), but that day, that splendid day in the sunshine, that weird lil fella and his band changed things for me. I was a stuttering mess who couldnt even have a conversation with a man, or most other, real life, HUMAN beings, much less ones that were charismatic as a Pentecostal Preacher full of the spirit on rapture day,and as handsome as any man I have ever seen, but to be kind to my kid on top of it and patient with me when I stuttered and mumbled out my request? Fuck me running... I was owned hard core for a long time.

The joy and happiness and gratitude has kept me afloat and kept my little family going and laughing in some tough damn times up here away from everything we knew. I have missed my sons, Texas, my dog, having a car, and often I have thought about giving up and going back to AZ and facing whatever my fate would be there just so it wouldnt be so damn hard up here all alone, but then I would think about just how far we have come, and that joy we wouldnt have had. The fact that I have been moving forward, my path to the sunshine that points forward, never backwards, reminds me that I cannot quit.

I have stepped further along my path in the past couple of weeks. I have made some more progress that I thought I could not make. I have actual, real life friends that I have been hanging out with on what is getting to be a regular basis. I have a couple of grown women friends, Sus of course and another friend that I need to get to know better who seems to be an awesome chick, but there are a couple of gals that like the same weird lil band and we get together and talk and giggle about them and the music and we just get out.

That led to the next step along the path, I started going out by myself to a coffee shop and hanging out and watching people and trying to socialize, especially with men. I have longed to find company of the manly type for quite a while, but I am just so damn misanthropic and shy, that its difficult for me to figure out how to meet a guy without freaking him out. Well, yesterday, a guy came into the shop who took my breath away pretty much like the cute lil fella did. That dimpled, charm and charisma with those bright eyes are just deadly! This wasn't a very big fella either, probably no more than 5'7 and I was just flat twitterpated when he walked past me to the counter. The barista knew him and spoke to him. When he sat down, we exchanged glances back and forth and smiles until it reached the point I was an absolute disaster.He finally left and then my friend and I left and I walked around for awhile. We came back later and I decided to ask the barista who he was. You know you are in Portland when you describe a guy perfectly, so perfectly that the FBI could have had him picked up and prone in less than 5 minutes, yet the guy didn't figure out who I was talking about until I said,"He REALLY wore his jeans." Then the guy knew who I as talking about and he said,"OH thats so and so hes in here all the time."

So I had his name, and I was smitten. The first time I have been smitten by a guy that is actually, possibly attainable to me. It made me giddy feeling and I walked home that day feeling like I was walking on air.

Today I went back to that shop, and I sat and drank my coffee and I decided to see if he came back in. He did, as I was leaving with my friends to go to a different restaurant for lunch! I died inside, it was fates cruel hand I thought, but with encouragement and harassment I decided to go back over to the coffee shop,(pretending to look for a lost key) to see if I could find the nerve to talk to him. He smiled and spoke to ME! I stammered, I gasped! I took on his accent ala "Eastern Promises" I said I was looking for a key and then promptly showed him my key chain that was in my hand. He smiled at me and directed me to the counter where maybe the staff had the missing key. I fled with my obtained accent while his dimples shined at me through the window.

My friends and the waitress were relentless. A note was written saying that I had forgotten to ask him to coffee while I was looking for the key. My number was included. The intrepid waitress snagged the note and description of her quarry in mind, she did me a great service.

This evening, as I was sitting in my room watching the latest video of my lil cuties that set me on my path, a text came into my phone,"How did you know my name?"

We just finished up a long strange conversation that covered things like ,"Monkeys,keys,paths, courage and accents that strangely surface at odd times." He is younger than me. He is very, very,cute. He has a sense of humor. He doesn't speak English so good, and thats okay, he doesn't need to , because I dont know what part of my path he is, but I do know I have a date for the first time in a long damn time and hopefully, though not tonight, its going to lead to a hell of a lot more than a pat on the shoulder that leaves me staggering and hopefully him too.

The lil cutie that got me here is still my touchstone, but im able to get further and further down the path away before I have to go back and thats a good thing. I will always remember, but it feels nice to stand on my on just a little, even if I am pretty wobbly and talking funny.

Dear Roger; Would Somebody FEED the Children?

Rog, it has been an interesting couple of weeks around here. Ive been writing quite a bit on my stories and I even started a couple of new ones. I started this new thing called a,"Tumblr" which is like a combination of the twitter and some odd blog/picture feed and its been FUN! I get all kinds of cool stuff that comes directly to the desktop of my computer for my viewing pleasure and mainly,as you know, that has been pictures of handsome young men. I get a lot of stuff from a few male gay porn websites too, but mainly its just pictures of my favorite little fella and some of the newer pretty young studs out there, and I have noticed something kinda disturbing. They pretty much all look like they need to have their mommas sit their asses down and FEED THEM A MEAL.

Now I know that the cute young thing I am partial to is a bit on the smallish side. I mean, the boy has no ass at all and considering he plays a kid most of the time thats par for the course, but its starting to get a bit concerning. He aint not kid anymore, hes starting to tap on the door of 30 and the last picture I saw of him from some magazine shoot he did, he had his t-shirt pulled up, showing off his tummy and his happy trail and even the edge of the forest, and he looked GAUNT. In fact the expression on his face even looked like he was hungry. It didn't make me hot, it made me want to go into the kitchen and cook up some dinner and feed him. My 15 year old son is bigger than him, and that aint right, because my 15 year old son looks up to that guy as kinda a role model and now my son,(who has a six pack and is an athlete), is dieting! Im a bit pissed off. I dont let my kids live on crap or junk food. We eat healthy. In fact my daughter considers mac and cheese and rare and amazing treat and McDonalds is virtually unheard of.

My son actually got a bottle of his favorite Asian salad dressing for his birthday and was tickled to death because he eats so much salad that its something he actually uses. Nobody in my little family is fat, but nobody is unhealthy either, but I worry about my son because he thinks he is fat because you cant count his intestine lines. What the hell is with the twink look that is going on in Hollywood nowadays for young men?

I saw a picture of the new Spiderman and I was like,"Really?!!" the child is soo skinny that he doesn't look like he could fight his way out of a spiderweb. I dont expect all guys to be big old bulky muscle heads, but normal, healthy, manly sizes would be nice to see. It hurts my heart as an older woman to see a cute young man looking like he is starving to death. I worry that he might be sick, or not taking care of himself, its not a look that generates a desire to do anything other than sit down and have a talk with my own kid about positive body image and nutrition.

Sis and I had a chat about the disturbing lack of bulges in the zipper areas of young men in many of the pictures as well, and my sis's comment was,"Well, thats just because you are out there on the Left coast, getcher ass back here to Texas where we got fellas that wear faded spots in the front of their wranglers with their peckers." Yeah...sis has a way of reminding me of all the the good things I am missing by not being back home. Like another friend commented, its just a disturbing trend towards making everything plastic looking. Getting rid of the bulges, getting rid of the body hair and blemishes and faults that make them interesting. I personally find all the little quirks like freckles and moles and scruff and glasses make a fella more human, and I wish that those that make magazines and movies would remember that. My son keeps trying to rid himself of all his body hair, and considering hes of Scot/Irish descent, hes a bit screwed in that aspect. He furry as a werewolf and the one good thing that came out of the whole starved looking picture that my son saw was that he saw the guy has fuzz...so maybe, just maybe, my son will stop trying to eradicate his.

The Face In The Rearview Mirror #3

I wrote another chapter of this. I posted it on my fan fic page, and on my Tumblr .I talked to my sister about him today and she remembered him and we had a good laugh about all the craziness that went on. These are fictionalized accounts of my youth, so I have taken some liberties with some things, but most of this stuff? It really happened, just so you have a little better understanding of why I am so damn weird. Found a picture of the little cutie that made me laugh, because you lighten the hair a bit and turn up the nose just a little on the end, and they looked pretty damn similar. I guess its just a look. Funny to think I woulda probably whooped his butt for the hell of it just based on appearances back in the day.

A/N This particular vignette will be in several parts. I am glad to see that I am getting folks who are adding this to their follow list. Thank you! I am sorry it still doesnt have a consistent updating schedule, but these stories are based on memories and I am a bit old, so sometimes its hard to remember some of the good stuff.

The heat coming up of the blacktop road was almost too much for my bare feet to handle, but considering I had just made fun of Jasper for scooting off into the grass and hopping from foot to foot like some crazy assed lizard I had seen on tv one time, I wasn't about to admit it. "Come on you big ole baby, you are slowing us down by trying to dodge all the stickers. If you would just cowboy up and keep on walking, your feet would get tough and you wouldn't notice it anymore." I was so annoyed at him for slowing me down on today of all days. My folks had taken Rose and gone to Longview for the day for some modeling thing, so we had the entire day to ourselves to just raise hell. I was planning on us hiking down to the Sulphur River bottom and looking for the Indian mound that we had heard that our neighbor had found when he was clearing some land for his cattle. If we cut across the highway and took the old railroad line that had been abandoned for so long it had trees growing up in the middle of it, we would have time to look for the mound and then also explore the old Waldrum place on our way back, but NOT IF HE KEPT DAWDLING! I picked up a rock and threatened to chunk it at his feet, "Come ON!" " Jeeze Bella, I'm coming already. I'm sorry my mom made us put on sunscreen and answer all those questions. You know how she is. If you hadn't shot me…"Hey! You shot me too! I still got the pellet to prove it!" I jerked my shorts down and showed him the bump in my butt cheek where the pellet was easily felt. Jasper grinned his goofy gap toothed grin and poked it with his finger. "That'll teach you." I gasped in mock outrage, " I knew you did it on purpose! Prepare for wedgie attack!" I tackled him into the grass on the side of the road and administered the required wedgie and a couple of noogies for good measure while he shrieked a little bit like a girl and tried to get away, until one of our neighbors drove by and stopped and asked if "Everything was okay?" I stood up and said, "Yes. everything is just fine. I just had to administer a couple life saving wedgies." They called me a 'Smartass " and drove off as Jasper threw grasshoppers and pebbles at me until I helped him get up, and we finally headed back out on our journey.

Crossing the highway was usually against the rules. It was so remote and so quiet that I didn't understand why, but my father had told Rose that someone named , "Henry Lee Lucas" had been down that very highway hunting people to kill and he didn't want her anywhere near it when there wasn't an adult around. I figured that if my father cared enough to warn Rose away from it, that there must be something pretty damn scary about it, but we were going to just cross it really fast and then head straight to the old railroad and walk down it.

When I first found the old railroad, I was amazed to see tracks that had trees growing up through them. One of the baby neighbor kids parents told me that our property had been a big old slave plantation back during the Civil War, and that railroad had been used to haul the cotton and the lumber to Galveston as well as to other parts of the Confederacy. Once the war was over, the track had been abandoned along with most of the old structures that were along it, and even a few old houses that were way back deep in the forest because either their owners had died in the war and it was too hard to get to them without the railroad, or they were rumored to be haunted. It was one of these old houses that we were going to investigate after we went looking for the Indian mound.

Jasper nervously stood at the side of the highway, holding onto his pecker like he was prone to do when he was scared. "Bella…I don't know if I should. My mom is not going to be happy if I cross the highway." I was already across and glaring at him across the narrow expanse. " Oh Come ON! We told her we were going to see the Indian mound" And we did, but we just kinda neglected to mention that we were crossing the highway and walking a few miles into the Sulphur River Bottom. She probably would not be really happy about that, but she was working a 12 hour shift so we were going to be alone all day long. I decided to just act like I didn't care and start walking, " Fine Jasper, Be a baby! Go sit in your house and watch nothing on TV. I am going to go see the Indian mound by myself and if I get disappeared, its all your fault." "Bella! Wait!" He stomped his foot, (still holding onto his pecker),looked up and down the highway like he was seeing if his mom was going to jump out and catch him being bad, and then he scooted across the highway like his ass was lit on fire. "FINE! But if we get in trouble, I'm making sure my mom spanks YOU first."

I held the fence so he could get through it without catching his shirt on it, and then we were into the trees and out of sight of the road. It was eerily quiet walking along the old railroad and I had the bright idea of telling ghost stories to each other while we walked along to make the trip seem shorter. Turns out Jasper knew some pretty dang scary ghost stories and one about some thing he called the, "Leaf Man". Let me tell you, something was seriously wrong in a boys brain that could come up with a monster that masked itself as a bed of leaves and moved along the forest floor and into the yards of unsuspecting suburban families. I vowed then and there to never look at a pile of leaves the same again. I used to think that dog turds were the biggest hazard, but a pile of leaves that would eat you? and then move onto the next yard or town or even back into the forest where it would eat woodland critters? I stopped and looked at Jasper. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you NOT see where we are?" He smiled at me, "What's the matter Bella? Are you skeered?" I bent down and picked up a stick and started walking towards him, "NO! But you should be!" He laughed and took off running ahead of me, dodging the missing ties and trying to do a scary voice over his shoulder and failing miserably as I chased after him, threatening to beat him within an inch of his miserable life when I caught him.

We ran for a few minutes until we both caught the smell of water. I knew a creek ran near the railroad, but I wasn't sure where, and I didn't want to get too far off from the trail, but it was hot and this was too good of an opportunity to pass up. "Lets find it Jasper, maybe we can wade and cool off for a bit and then head on into the Sulphur." Jasper grinned at me, "Truce?" "Yeah you big baby, you got a truce, but I am keeping the stick in case of a snake." Jaspers eyes got big, "Do you smell one?" Ever since his finger got broke, he was all jumpy about that, " No, I don't smell one, but I want to be ready, and this is a good stick." Truth is, I was planning on whacking him across his butt when he bent over to take his shorts off for swimming, but he didn't need to know that.

We walked along the railroad a little further and then when the ground started to slope away from it a little, we saw the telltale glint of water in the distance. We both grinned and whooped, jumping over the rail and heading towards the glint at a run. I wasn't sure what we were going to find, but it was like the perfect kids swimming hole. It wasn't stagnant at all, in fact, it was a place where the creek simply widened into a perfect bowl for swimming. There was even grass on the edge of it so you wouldn't get too muddy getting in or out of it. Trees overhung part of it and there were some rocks on the far side. "Jasper, I think we have found heaven." He just nodded at me. "Well? Lets do this!" I started stripping and Jasper began pulling his shirt up over his head. "Do you think it will be okay?" I stopped and looked at him, " Who is going to care, nobody is around, we have this pool all to ourselves, I don't smell a snake and its perfect! Im going in, now hurry UP!" I got finished stripping and stood waiting for Jasper as he dawdled along. He got his shirt off and seemed to debate his shorts. "Oh come on Jasper, if you go in with your shorts on, your mom is gonna know we went swimming and we are gonna get in trouble, now come on, don't be a chicken." He grimaced at me and pulled his shorts down with his tighty whiteys, "Okay, but don't laugh at me Bella." He was so weird about that, I never got why he thought I would laugh at him. Boy parts were different, just like bulls were different from cows. I didn't care he was a dangler. "Jeesh Jasper, The only way I would laugh at you would be if a catfish grabbed aholt of that, so you better keep one hand onto your ding a ling." I took off into the water and splashed up at him as he squawked his outrage at me, but came wading in gingerly anyway,(keeping one hand on it the whole time), we waded and swam for a couple of hours in that little pool, enjoying a break from the crushing East Texas heat.

When we finally got hungry, we sat on the grass, drying off in the sun and eating the PB&J sandwiches his mom had packed to go along with the I had smuggled out of my house. It was a perfect break on our trip and I could tell by the sun that it had not even reached noon, so we still had the majority of the day left ahead of us to reach the mound and see if anything was left to find and rescue before the rancher bulldozed it all. I wanted no further part of Jaspers scary assed stories, so we started telling jokes and planning further adventures for the rest of the Summer. Jasper grinned at me and said, "Well, mom has said she wants to take us to 6 Flags one weekend! Do you think your mom will let you go?" I had no idea, and I couldn't imagine them having any big objection other than the expense, but I knew my father got free tickets for everyone in the family that we never used, so I told Jasper I would ask if I could get them. "Well, don't make him mad at you Bella, you know how he gets." Jasper looked worried and he reached over and took my hand. Jasper had been at the door one day when my father had been mad at me. He had a hard time forgetting that. I guess rich folk didn't beat their kids with belts very often and it took him a while to stop crying when he saw me after that. The scar on my head still made his lip quiver, and that was something that he was just going to have to get over, hell, I did.

Dear Roger: Boys and Communication Skills-Two of These Things Dont Go Together

My son was in such a mood last night! It really kinda ticked me off because it wasn't fair. He had gotten to go out with his friends, including his girlfriend, he had money in his pocket that I really couldn't spare that he had been able to spend, and he had been off sledding up on Mt Hood after spending time at the mall just hanging out being a kid. I hadn't hassled him about homework or anything. He had come home to a clean house,(including his room)and that was enough of a disgusting disaster area that I should have been pissed beyond belief myself, but I had also cooked a nice dinner. He had been asked for nothing and given much. So he should have been just about shitting rainbows and all Mary sunshine. But no, he was surly and hateful and treated me like I was bothering him when I tried to talk to him. I was starved for adult conversation with a real life human being. I had not had a casual human conversation with another person in a couple of days and I was getting a bit buggy. Mind you, the internet is fine for most casual conversations, but I am a Texan, and a Southerner so body language and gestures as well as inflection and the ability to get up and move around kinda play a part in the whole conversation thing, so sitting at a computer and typing just isn't as satisfying. I was starving to talk to someone! When he came in and dumped off all his gear in the dining room, I didn't even start a fight with him. Hell, I was glad to see him and glad to have someone to talk to! I put his stuff away and I went and knocked on the door to his room. I could already hear the noise of alerts on his computer which told me he was talking to his girlfriend who he had just left.

He answered the door and said,'What? What do you want?" I was a bit taken aback at the rude tone of his voice, after all, he had just gotten home! I said,"How was the trip?" He scoffed and said," It was ridiculous and I dont want to talk about it, now can I go please?" I was shocked. He had just gotten home and I was looking forward to talking to him and he was shutting me out. So I said,"Let me guess, You are fighting with your girlfriend or your buddies so I get to suffer? Nice...thanks a lot son." I turned and shut the door behind me and I went into the kitchen and started finishing up dinner. I could hear him in his room obviously arguing about something and ranting about some stupid thing that will have him in a surly mood for a week. I served dinner to my daughter and tapped on his door and let him know it was ready, but I wasn't kissing his ass anymore. He knew he had already messed up and until he came out and apologized, it was not going to be good around us.He knows I dont put up with it because its not fair to make me and his sister suffer because he and his friends are having problems they cant seem to sort out. I refuse to let sleeping dogs lie. I will force him to talk about it eventually and I invoke interrogation skills that I learned as a cop and as a teacher and in a couple of decades as a mom. He sulked in his room for a little bit longer and then he came out and he did what he knew was required, what I have always required of him since he was a little boy. He stood in front of me and he apologized." Mom, I'm sorry I was rude and a jerk when I got home. I was having an argument with my girlfriend over I dont even know what and I took it out on you and that wasn't fair to take out on you.It was a dick move and I was wrong." Being able to apologize hasn't always been easy for him, but he has discovered that it has earned him respect from adults and other kids because they see him as a man who is capable of admitting when he was wrong. Thats a hard thing to do and I struggled with it myself when I was younger and I wanted to help him avoid all that pain, so I taught him to always admit his mistakes and stand up and own them and apologize, but to never stand for being abused.

My son knows I wont ever stand for it again. Sometimes I choose to walk away from a fight rather than engage in one, but I will not be brow beaten or abused ever again and I have taught my son to never take abuse and denigration from anyone. We actually got to talking about it again last night when an actor who is infamous for browbeating another human being in such a heinous manner that it made the evening news, won an award. I wont watch movies that the actor is in. I wont support anything he is involved in. The guy is a bully and a jerk and I have no use for him and my son asked me what I would have done if I had been on the receiving end of that kind of rant. "Dental Work" . No job, nothing. Is worth taking that kind of abuse and I told my son that. I have my dignity, my pride and my ego and I would prefer all of them to remain intact rather than to lose them at the price of a few dollars and I know my son heard that message loud and clear when he stood up to his step-father that day.

My son came out and apologized to me for his behavior, and I asked him what the issue was between him and his friends,and he groaned in frustration," I was talking to some other girls and apparently on friend likes one of those girls and my girlfriend knows that one of those girls like me and she didn't like me talking to her and now they are both men so I am apparently NOT allowed to talk to other people!" I laughed at him because he seemed so frustrated at the High School drama and all the insanity of the teen minds when he has been through so many adult situations and is actually very mature compared to many of his friends. 'What the hell is wrong with people, they act so damn stupid always obsessed about partying and they think their world is ending if they cant go skiiing!" My son is a funny kid, he is getting more serious about school and getting in shape as well as practicing his guitar and while there are days when he thinks he has it way worse than most kids his age, he knows that he is actually doing pretty good. He has friends, (though they may drive him crazy), he is a healthy and good looking kid that has girls and a couple of boys(and the fact that he is okay with this still freaks me out)following him around and even home, hes talented and smart and adults like him and comment on the fact that he will stand up and do the right thing. He has his moments when he is still an irritable, surly, smelly, hairy, weird, teen, but for the most part he is turning into a hell of a young MAN that I am very proud of.

Dear Roger; The Story of My Life

Writing some of my adventures has had me thinking about my younger and wilder days, and I have even been wondering what became of my partner in crime. I haven't heard from him except for one last phone call when I was 18. Him and his mom had moved to Garland and he was in town with his mom because she was visiting some friends. He wanted to see me, but I had a boyfriend who was jealous, so I couldn't go see him, and after that rejection, he never called me again. I have missed Jimmy over the years, and Jimmy was his name, and I have wondered what he grew up to be and if he ever thinks of me. He was my best friend in those summers, and we did so many fun and crazy things, but it was all innocent fun. We were in a different time and place, and at a point and time where we weren't really aware of the interest that that we might have for each other later. I think we would have ended up dating,maybe together as a couple long term and I would have been spared the heart ache of the loss of the first boy I loved in such a violent manner, because Jimmy would have been that love and that boy would have just been a friend that died. I speculate on a lot of things, but I wish I knew where Jimmy had ended up, his last name is soo common that trying FB search just brings up so many possibilities that I give up in frustration. So I picture him as I last saw him, a little taller than me, with his dirty blonde curly hair, his green eyes and his nose that was a little bit pug, he had freckles across the bridge of it, and his front teeth had a slight gap. He had a scar on his elbows and knees from where he wrecked his dirt bike into a barb wire fence when the neighbors stupid dogs got into a fight in front of him and he turned to avoid them, and he always tanned up really golden like he had Indian in him.

Growing up in the country gave me a life that I wish my kids could have. I didnt have many fancy things, and I ran wild most of the time because my parents pretty much ignored me, but I had adventure and I did things that my kids will never get to experience. I had pear-apple wars with neighbor kids, I lived like Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, I knew woods lore and I fished and hunted and built shelters and rode horses while other kids were going to lessons and having their fancy country club parties, and maybe I may have been an outcast when I was younger, but now those same people that rejected me when I was younger, are now reading my stories and loving them, wishing they could have had that. Living an uncommon life left its marks and scars, and I am still an outsider from so much of those who live around me, but there are those out there still managing to exist like I did.

My sons life is so similar to another's that it made both of us realize that what he had been through can be not only survived, it can be triumphed over and can make him a stronger person. We watched the movie,"This Boys Life" together the other night, and we were both struck at how much it reminded us of our lives, in fact if it wasn't made 2 years before my son was born, it would be like watching my sons life.He commented that he wondered if my ex learned his parenting skills from the movie. It was heartbreaking, but we looked up the author on the internet and found that he has done well and is still alive, so that was a relief.

My son knows that I dont allow him the luxury of claiming that coming from a tough background as an excuse to be a fuck up. My grandfather was a abused child. He was the oldest of 7 kids, beaten, starved and treated like a slave by an alcoholic father. He left home at 13 and worked his way from Iowa to Idaho where he worked as a ranch hand until he joined the military underage. He literally starved when he was a kid. He suffered, and he overcame it and achieved much in his life. He was a decorated WW2 veteran Navigator/Bombardier of B-17's and B-24s, Silver and Bronze stars, Pearl Harbor survivor, D-day, Berlin and Black Friday. He was a hero who went on to go to college and graduate and then teach. He never committed a crime, never was a drunk,or drug abuser. He was a good man. So bad backgrounds can be risen above and I remind my son of that on a daily basis. I have also known those that had everything handed to them on a silver platter and were worthless shits that I wouldn't cross the street to piss on if they were on fire. Money doest make class or dignity or morals and a man, so I tell my kids that they need to just work hard and remember who they are, do their best to be good people, and remember things that Honor, Integrity, Dignity , and Pride are things that a person has in them, and that they cannot be bought.

I hope that Jimmy grew up with those things. I like to think that he did. He was a good boy and in my memories he was all those and more, perhaps its best he remain there.

Dear Roger; Thinking About A Boy

Ive been writing on a new series of stories. I went ahead and "Fic'd" them, meaning that I gave them names of characters from the Twi series to get the stories some visibility, but they are based on me and my best friend from when I was a kid. He made my life bearable and I miss him constantly.

I plan to publish about one new story a month.

These stories are dedicated to the friends we make that leave a mark on our soul.

The Face In The Rearview Mirror

Shh! "If you don't shut up they are gonna hear you, stupid head and that's gonna ruin it, now be quiet til we are a little closer!" I swear, trying to sneak up on anything with him was pretty near impossible. He may be a boy, but sometimes he could be a chickenhearted boy, and not very much like Wild Bill at all, even though he always insisted he had to be Wild Bill and I had to be Calamity Jane because he was a boy and I was a girl, didn't matter that I was a better and a faster shot than him, or that I could wrassle him down and make him cry uncle by giving him Indian burns and noogies, nah…he was a boy and had curly hair like my hero so he insisted that he got to be him and I thought that sucked. We belly crawled forward a little further, keeping watchful eyes for fire ant mounds and snakes, as well as sign that we had been spotted by our quarry, the bag of pear-apples shifted and I decided that now was as good a time as any for a snack. 'Hey, dumbass! I tossed one at his head, smacking him in the back of his curls and earning a glare from him as he picked it up and threatened to throw it back at me. "Uhhh uhhh! I shook the bag at him, reminding him that I was vastly better armed than him, and considering that I had been found to have an 88mph pitch this past baseball season, he knew not to mess with me, because best friend or not, I would mess his butt up. We laid there in the deep grass for a few minutes, enjoying our pear-apple break, every now and then peering over the top of the grass to make sure our quarry had not moved further down the pasture out of reach.

" So, school starts next week, do you know who you have yet?" I didn't, my mom was not the most on the ball when it came to finding out things like that and in all likelihood I wouldn't have any idea who I had until I actually walked into the classrooms. " Nah, we haven't even gotten my school supplies or clothes yet. Mom took Rose last week to get her stuff but I have to wait until dads next paycheck, so she hasn't even gone by the school. I wasn't my parents priority, I knew it, Jasper knew it, and pretty much anyone who looked at me and my sister together, knew it. My sis always had the latest in fashion, the nicest of pretty much everything, and I got the leftovers, and I was the afterthought, the accident, even though I was the oldest. I tried to pretend that it didn't bother me, but it really did and Jasper knew it, his way of helping me to deal though was to throw the core from his apple-pear at my head and say, "They are on the move! Come on, we gotta step it up or they are gonna get away again," We belly crawled faster, towards our quarry, and reaching within the agreed upon distance, Jasper and I both rose to a low crouch and eased into a position so that we were able to separate two of our quarry from the rest. We raised up to standing and taking an apple-pear out of my bag I slowly began approaching my target, clucking softly and talking in what I hoped was a calm and soothing voice. The muzzle reached out and lipped the fruit off my outstretched palm, and I beamed in pride. Victory was all but assured! I reached out slowly to pat his nose and slowly reached into my bag to pull out another fruit for him. I could see that Jasper was having similar luck, we were gonna ride today! As I started to ease the bridle off my shoulder, I heard the truck approaching on the highway. Jaspers eyes met mine, surely not? We were soo close to victory! Surely with our quarry within our reach, we were not gonna have it yanked away right at the last minute? Dammit! It was.

"Hey! You damn kids get outta there!" Shit! It was Sammy and we were busted, caught dead to rights in his pasture with his prize stud horse and mares. I looked at Jasper, and breathed the one word I knew he was waiting to hear," RUN!" We didn't move suddenly until we had cleared the horses, but once we were out of the middle of them, we hauled ass like the devil himself was on our heels, and maybe he was. Sammy was known to have a bit of a temper and he carried a bullwhip in is truck, so rather than run the risk of getting a much deserved beating for getting caught riding his horses, we just ran like hell and hoped he wouldn't remember who the hell we were. We tore through the scrub oak and the briar bushes, jumping the old, broken down barbed wire fence that separated our place from the vast expanse that was the Cullen place. We ran until we reached the giant old oak with the grave underneath it, and then we climbed up and sat on our favorite branch, laughing at the craziness of our risk. "Your momma is gonna beat your ass if he goes and gripes at her" Jasper stopped laughing a minute, worry shadowing his face as he spoke. "Ahh, don't worry about it, she spends so much time in her room nowadays that she wont even bother to do anything." I tried to reassure him, but even I was a little worried. My mom was prone to explosions that he had witnessed on more than a few occasions and I had the scars to prove it.

Jaspers life was a pretty good one even though he didn't have a daddy. Considering the type of daddy I had, I figured no daddy might actually be a blessing. His mom worked at the hospital as a nurse in the emergency room, and though she could be kinda strict sometimes, she always made sure Jasper had food and clean clothes and that the house they rented was clean. My folks actually owned our house and my dad worked for the mine, supposedly a really good job that made my sister Rose all kids of stuck up, but we didn't have any of that kind of stuff. Our house was always nasty, with piles of laundry all over the place, dishes just stacked in the sink or on the counter and even the floor, and my moms animals just went wherever they felt like it. I knew I often smelled like cat pee or cigarette smoke, and I knew how to fetch a beer for my dad as soon as I was walking. Saying stuff about it just pissed my mom off and got me a slap, so I just learned to keep my mouth shut and stay our of the house as much as possible. Rose was often at friends houses, even though her room was the nicest in the house. My dad worked 12 hour shifts, and when he was home, he drank and smoked until he went to bed. I don't think we had spoken more than 10 words to each other in the past 3 years. My summers had been misery until Jasper had moved into the rent house down the road, and I knew he was going to be my best friend the moment we had met, even though the first words out of his mouth were, "Why don't you have a shirt on?"

Summer in deep East Texas is like living in a sauna. it's a kinda hot that gets amplified by the sound of cicadas and the way that the sticker burrs cling to your legs as you run through the pastures. The smell of bois d'arc trees and honey suckle hung heavy in the air and I loved to wander up the right of way picking the ripened buckeyes so I would have something to chunk at the old bull when I needed to cut through the small pasture he hung out in so I could get to my favorite fishing hole. I was walking up the old game trail, thinking about heading over to where the ruins of the old slave cabins were, to see if I could find anymore treasures laying around when I heard the sound of something moving up the trail towards me. We had put up with a roaming pack of wild dogs killing stock all summer, and not knowing if it was them or a stranger, I decided to make myself scarce by shimmying up a tree. I managed to get up the closest one and I stood on the branch, close to the trunk, waiting to see what was coming. Stupid granddaddy longlegs spiders were trying to crawl over my foot and I kicked at them, trying to keep them off of me, because even though I knew they were harmless, they were just gross and I hated way their legs tickled as they went over me. I heard more crashing, (whatever was coming had no woods sense at all), and I stilled myself and waited, watching up the trail. Before too long I saw him, and I almost laughed at loud with the glee at how much fun I knew I was gonna have with this one because it was pretty obvious he was a city slicker and had no idea the things in the woods that could mess with him.

He was a pretty boy. He was wearing a pair of fancy khaki shorts and a button up shirt. He had on sandals with socks and I almost fell outta my tree laughing at that and the craziness of wearing socks where sticker burrs ruled, much less socks with sandals. He had curly hair that was a little darker and mine and he was pale, as in the kinda pale that didn't see the sun very often. I didn't see any bandaids on his knees or scars or scrapes on him so I figured he was soft. Probably a Dallas prep school sissy boy. He wandered along with a stick in his hand, whacking at the buckeyes and knocking them off the bushes, and I could hear him muttering to himself as he approached. 'Stupid hick town out in the middle of no where! Nothing to do, nobody around! I hate it here! I want to go home!" Yup, I had called it, he was a spoiled assed city boy. I drew a buckeye outta my bag and decided on a plan of attack. If I hit him dead on, he was likely to spot me too soon and end the game, so I decided to go with the armadillo hunting technique. I was gonna attract his attention and then sneak attack from behind. He wasn't very big, so I figured I could take him and pin him easy, maybe scuff him up a little and get them clothes some hick town dirt on them.

I threw the first buckeye right in front of him, and he jumped backwards in shock from the sudden movement. When he realized it was just a buckeye, he kicked at it with his sandal and looked around to see if it had fallen out of a tree or something. I ducked behind the trunk of the tree I was standing on, waiting a few before I peeked around, to see what he was doing. He bent down to pick up the eye and I threw the next one, striking him right on top of his curly head. He jumped up like he had been shot and looked around like he was expecting a booger bear to jump out and eat him. I was trying hard to not fall out of the tree laughing as he looked all around him, so I threw another one right behind him to see if I could force him on under me so I could pounce. It worked and he started quickly walking along the trail until he was just about under my tree, and then I whipped another eye at him, striking him right in his pretty pink ear. He howled and grabbed his ear as I dropped out of the tree behind him, tackling him and taking him down to the ground, growling at him, "What are you doing in my woods city boy?" He shrieked like a girl and promptly passed out.

Oh no! I didn't mean to break him. I was just gonna scuff him up a bit, maybe make him eat some dirt, and then see if he wanted to go fishing. Boys aren't supposed to pass out! Holy Crap! I tried stuff I had seen on tv, I slapped his face, yelled, 'Hey" at him a few times, lifted his hand up over his face…nothing. He was out, and eww…he had peed his pants too. I felt horrible. I should have known he was gonna be more delicate, after all it was obvious he was a city kid and probably a rich, city kid so his folks were probably gonna have me killed or something for hurting him. I remembered I had some water in my canteen, so I thought maybe that would kill two birds with one stone! First is would wake him up, and second, if I got him all wet, he wouldn't know he peed himself! So I opened my canteen and started dumping it on him, starting with his shorts and working my way up. Sure nuf, it worked and he was coming round. He sputtered and coughed and started crying as he sat up and I squatted down in front of him, "Hey! Don't cry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you so bad, I was just messing with you. My names Bella, what's yours?" He wiped the water out of his eyes and took in his now muddied and defiantly scuffed up appearance, " Im Jasper, but why don't you have a shirt on?"

"Why didn't I have a shirt on?" Wasn't the better question why he did? It was hotter than hell at high noon outside, and it was Summer. Nobody was around, cept me, and maybe the stupid baby neighbor kids, but most likely they were in England again for their holiday or whatever they called it, and besides, they didn't play with me anyhow, so I was alone, and it was just cooler to go with out a shirt. I probably woulda gone without shorts too, but I didn't want to get worms. I wasn't wearing shoes either, but I hated wearing shoes, unless they were my boots, and since they were banned from the house for smelling so bad, I had grown to mistrust them after putting them on one morning and encountering a spider. It was just easier to wear nothing but a pair of old cutoffs. I had pockets for my pocket knife and gum, and my kit bag and canteen for everything else, I didn't need a shirt, but he looked at me so funny I kinda felt odd, like maybe I should be wearing a shirt.

'Where are you from Jasper? He was still looking at me funny and I was about to shove him back if he kept on, but he wiped the snot away from under his nose, smearing mud on his face as he did so, and he grumbled, "Houston, we just moved here a couple of days ago." Whoa! A new neighbor! Cool! " So how old are you,(I had to make sure he wasn't gonna get snaked by Rose), and if he was old enough to attract her interest, then she sure would try just to be mean. "I'm 12, how about you?" No way! He was my age too? Granted he's a bit on the soft side, and needed some toughening up, but I knew that I had just found the Butch to my Sundance.

Dear Roger:Ouch! For A Kid Whose Name Means "Lucky" in French, He Sure Has A Hard Time

Well, I think I have aged about 10 years in the past few days, and most of it is because of my son. Its not directly his fault, but rather the shit luck that he seems to have sometimes. The poor kid wants to be an actor, right? Well, you would think he would be a little more protective of his pretty face, but he seems to lead with it and he already had a nice scar on his chin that gives him an extra dimple, one on his forehead that he got when he was a baby and fell into a coffee table and split his face open, one over his eye that he got when he fell out of a bunkbed, and now, the best of all that could seemingly only happen to my son, an almost 2 inch long gash that is exactly between is eyes, onto the bridge of his nose!

He was in p.e., in the swimming pool because they were doing an aquatics block, he was minding his own business waiting for things to get set up while the teacher and another student moved the aquatics basketball hoop. Welll...something went wrong somewhere and the support for the hoop snapped and it fell, striking my son in the face. Thats right, a 2-300lb basketball hoop thingy,(pardon the technical term) fell and hit my kid in the face. So, hes got his gash in his face, a cracked nose, and a concussion. This makes his second concussion this year at this school! They called me and told me he had fallen in the pool area and that I needed to come and get him and take him to the doctor. That kinda pissed me off just a little, he should have been taken to the hospital! Hell, the first time he got a concussion during football, they sent his ass home, walking!!

Its a bit crazy that they seem a little unconcerned about kids getting bashed in the head like that. He has 5 butterfly stitches holding his face shut and will have a Harry Potterish scar to add to his collection. Perhaps he will be a character actor.

I am still dealing with my wisdom tooth issue. I finally broke and went to Urgent Care yesterday. The fact I was actually dealing with blood and obvious signs of infection and abscess, had me realizing that if I didn't do something soon, I was going to end up back in the hospital. Having a fever for a week makes me one cranky woman, and the pain that was shooting up under my eye was making me a bit psychotic. I was living on 3 year out of date Vicodin, so I knew something had to give. The doctor I saw was a bit odd, but he gave me a prescription for Keflex and oddly, and anti-fungal? I have no idea why he did that but what ever. I am taking the Keflex and I am going to research the anti-fungal before I take that. He also gave me a fresh scrip for Vicodin so maybe I wont damage my liver any more than necessary. My blood pressure was up for the first time in a long time. Normally I am freakishly low, as in 98/64 but yesterday is was cranking along at 128/88 and that freaked me out a bit because I was consciously trying to relax and I have really cut back on caffeine and all kinds of bad stuff and I work hard to stay in shape. I mean, hell! I had actually managed to get my weight up to 112, (though that was with boots and coat on), and I walk and exercise and try to stay limber. I should not have blood pressure that high. I am hoping it was just the fact I was in pain that had it so high. But anyway, I am working on getting this shit cleared up and I am trying to find someplace to get the wisdom teeth pulled so I wont have to deal with them again. My son is doing okay, though he has been a bit cranky due to the headaches. Small daughter is such a pistol, she pulled yet another tooth night before last and was very excited about it. She is such an odd kid, she just reached up and twisted it and POP, pulled the damn thing right out! She is saving up her money so she can buy the new 100 Monkeys album when it comes out,(I will buy it for her, hopefully for her birthday in March), or for a new t-shirt, but she is just fearless when it comes to that kind of stuff.

Its cold as all get out up here! I dont mind it, but I hate it when the wind blows, it seems to make the pain from my teeth worse, and that really makes me cranky.

My writing is coming along okay. I am writing an outtake from one of my main stories for the 'Fandom Against Domestic Violence" project, I am hoping the POV of the Young Rock Star will raise a few bucks for them, my muse has been a bit elusive lately because of the pain, but hes been wandering around on the periphery, so hopefully I will catch up with him later.

Dear Roger: Parental Revenge? Or Whats So Damn Funny?

My son is an,"Interesting" kid. I have said before he is a bit of a smart-ass and a he vacillitates between this weird ambisexterous masculinity that seems to delight in trying to stress me out, worrying that maybe he is taking a walk on the,'Wild side", so worrying me that he is wrapped up in this ,"Girlfriend" of his a little to much. He has some strange ideas about who and what I should be interested in, and he often tries to be just a bit on the bossy side, and even more irritating, he seems to have a bit of a problem with authority, meaning mine. Getting him to listen is often an exercise in using my best reverse psychology. If I tell him to do something directly, quite often he will do the exact opposite. Tell him to clean up his room, he seems to make it messier. Suggest he stick with practicing one song in his guitar? He practices parts of 11 or 12 of them as part of one song. I actually heard him play something that started off as "Wish you were here" that then morphed into "Smoke On the Water" and into "Beautiful More So" and then "I Got A Reason" with "What Its Like" and God knows what else thrown in. I think he did it to try and drive me crazy.

He managed to lose his Ipod, and that lead to a bit of a disagreement over the reason for why it got lost. Yeah, I probably sounded like my parents, but jeesh! They boy has no organization at all! His room looks like he walks in and flings any transient garbage he happens to pick up on the way home. His schoolwork is all over the place, dirty clothes all over and frankly...it smells. He threw a bit of a hissy fit because he couldn't find his iPod before church,(shouldn't have it in church anyway),and I told him I would look for it while he was gone. He wanted to take my ipod, and maybe I should be flattered that he thinks my taste in music is good enough that he would deign to to such a thing, but frankly, my ipod cost a lot more than his, its older and I could never replace it now, so I said no. He thew a baby fit, but he left it and stomped on out the door muttering about how,"Mean" I was and "greedy" and I am sure all kinds of other unkind comments. I searched his room when he was gone,(gag!) and even though I used to be able to find all kinds drugs and stuff that people never wanted me to find when I was a cop,(being able to think like a criminal made me really good at finding all the secret hidey holes for all kinds of stuff, plus 70%of my friends growing up were into some kind of fuckery so I learned where to hide weed and stuff in cars, which made it great for me as a cop when it came to ferreting it out. But thus I digress, I searched his room and the rest of the apartment, old school style. I found a few dollars I didn't know we had, a bunch of my movies that he was totally messing up by having them out of their cases even though he had promised he was going to put them away, some really gross underwear and socks, and his missing house key, but no ipod. He was pretty bummed out when he got home and wanted to borrow mine. I was going to decline and he knows there are things that he does that gross me out. That weird thumb thing he does, threatening to flip his eyelids inside out, just general gnarly freakishness that makes my stomach kinda flip flop...yeah, well he did that thumb thing, walking toward me. I thought about starting to discuss sex or,"Hot guys" which usually works as a repellent against him, but my teeth hurt so damn bad I just didn't have any fight in me.

He wont listen when I tell him that he needs to get organized and put his stuff in places where he can actually find it. He argues with his English teacher, and consequently, he is flunking English! How the hell does a kid with test scores OFF THE CHARTS! flunk his native language? Ill tell you how, he decides to go,"On strike" and not do the work. Jeebus! He is doing great in French, just took a state aptitude test to see where he is at in science because apparently he is annoying his science teacher with being a bit of a,'Know it all" and he is going to get bumped up a year ahead and put into chemistry a year early!I suggested he take advanced math, meaning calculus, next year to compliment it, and of course he acted as if I suggested that he cut his balls off and said,"Jeeze mom! Should I have no social life?" uhh, yeah? Hes a teen, of course I dont want him to have a social life. He is planning on taking choir and theater and French again as well as running track, so maybe he will quit football? I am afraid to say anything about it because the only way to ensure he will play is to act like I dont want him to...I think? My mother called in the midst of one of mine and my sons infamous bickering matches about what a ,"Hardass" I am about things and,"How he refuses to listen". I told my mom that he seemed to have a real problem with authority and it worried me.

Rog, she fucking laughed at me. Not a little either, she guffawed. I mean she full on busted out, had to have been rolling on the floor, gasping until she was choking, laughed at me. Then she hung up on me. I do not get what was so damn funny? Yeah, I may have had a bit of an attitude growing up, but really? Was that called for?

Dear Roger: Teeth, Or Genetics Are A Funny Thing

This has been a bitch of a week. I tend to be able to ignore most pain. I have lived with broken bones that have gone untreated, I have tended to lacerations that probably should have had stitches, and I even drove myself to the hospital to have an emergency c-section when I was trying to die, but one pain kicks my ass every damn time, and that is teeth pain. Right now my ass is getting kicked pretty hard because I have 3 very severely impacted and infected wisdom teeth. I have a bit of a dentist phobia because I have had some really bad experiences, and to be honest, to get me to go to the dentist I just about have to be darted like a rogue grizzly and drug in restrained and blindfolded. Add into the phobia the fact that I dont have dental insurance or the money to get anything done about my problem, and you have the perfect storm of a hell of a problem. I have been running a fever for more than 3 days now, I have had to drain one abscess already, and the infection is making my face puffy and hot. Im living on Tylenol, Motrin and some old Vicodin that I have. I feel like I am the only 41 year old in the world dealing with this, but my mother called last night to make sure I was still breathing and she tells me that this issue is a family thing courtesy of her side of the family. It seems that weird teeth issues run in her side of the family. Great! I had problems with my teeth breaking when I was a kid, and now my wisdom teeth deciding to surface in my 40's, already bad and broken, is just the bit of fun I needed. Its not fair really, I had just been to the dentist before I left Flag, I had gotten my teeth cleaned and my front teeth had been smoothed and polished and I have one of those high dollar sonicare brushes that I use religiously along with expensive toothpaste, but its all been for naught. Im still suffering like I am a tweeker with a cotton candy habit. I dont know what I am going to do about it. I know the risks of having this kind of problem untreated, and I know I am as cranky as a grizzly with hemorrhoids, but I am just out of options at the moment. I cant afford to get them removed,and frankly the videos I have seen on the internet of it being done leave me thinking that perhaps there is just not enough sedation in the world to make me voluntarily walk into someplace that was going to do that to me.

Our family does have some interesting genetic anomalies going on, and the teeth is the least of it.I was the first in the family to have a child with a full on genetic disability and that really doesn't count, because that is often linked to many other things. But the weird curly cowlick on the back of the head, runs in family, the thumbs that can bend back til they touch the wrists is pretty common on your side, and my son has that in spades,(a little on the gross side to see your kid able to do that), blue and green eyes when there should be brown eyes, the artistic abilities and temperament that runs strong, the inability to handle alcohol,(but the desire to drink it), freckles, and probably the temper are just a few of the things I can think of. Its a blessing and a curse in some ways, and its odd to see some of the characteristics pop up our kids. I see both you and my cousin Robert in my eldest son, along with his biological father. My youngest daughter looks like me when I was her age but she acts like my sister. My middle two sons are hard to read, though Stubby is a lot like me in temperament. My kids are lucky, at least they all seem to have decent teeth, though braces are probably in the future of at least a couple of them.

Dear Roger; Traditions, Memories

Its been a pretty busy few days around here. I have been out for coffee with friends, went downtown yesterday and wandered all over the place and finally made it to Powells Books! Hell, it only took,what? a little over 6 months? I had a great time with the two gals that went with me and I look forward to having many more adventures with them. We also went to Voodoo donuts and I got a dozen donuts to bring home to the kids as a very damn rare treat. They are pretty much all gone this morning, but they were a hit last night even though son was all bitchy and snippy with me because I wouldn't promise him he could have SIXTY bucks to spend on his little girlfriends birthday in March! I dont think the boy quite gets the fact that we are freaking POOR and his girlfriend ranks very far below my baby girl who has a birthday coming up in March.

I dont know what the hell I am going to so for small daughters birthday. She wants to go to another concert, but I dont know if they are going to be touring by then, and even if they are, I dont know where the hell they will be, so I think she is going to have to make do with a t-shirt or something. I hope to have a decent job by then, and maybe I can get her something nice, like a real bed so she doesn't have to sleep on the floor anymore, but things aren't looking great in the job market around here and until we get a car, I am kinda screwed in that department.

Son and I did have a good talk the other night on the importance of traditions and maintaining the things that tie us to our heritage. He and his sister plotted together for her to be the first to say "Rabbit, Rabbit,Rabbit" on New Years, and she was tickled to death to actually do it. We talked about how my grandma would sometimes call me up out of the blue when I was living in Dallas or even Yuma, just to say it to me on the first of the month, and it was just kinda our thing. I miss that and after she had her stroke and my mother took over, that tradition died in the house, along with so many other things. We talked about other things that I do that are just part tradition and part of values that were imparted into me by my grandparents. I dont drink before noon, and I tend to think poorly of folks who do. I dont drink on Sundays. I expect men to take their hats off at the table and use their manners, including not burping,farting or blowing their noses at the table,(something my father always did and I found disgusting), I taught my son to shake hands and make eye contact and my daughter to curtsy and use her best manners. I was so put off on that snooty school when the director told my daughter that she didn't have to say ,'Sir and ma'am" that I was really glad when my son let it drop. We stand and salute or put our hands over our hearts for the flag, always. We pull to the right and turn on our headlights for a funeral procession. I do my best to watch my language in front of the elderly and small children, and I expect my son to hold the door for them, and he always does. I may be old fashioned, and we may get funny looks, but my son has girls chasing after him like nobodies business because of his manners and how he treats people, so I must be doing something right.

Im not perfect but I remember what I was taught by my grandparents, and my son commented that being well mannered and polite, makes him stand out apart from the herd at school and sometimes he gets harassed about it, but mostly he gets lots of attention from girls, so he considers it a win/win.

Texas A&M is playing lsu today and we are going to watch together. I am hoping when he sees all the tradition and honor and devotion that is around A&M, he will realize that its something he wants more than being an actor or a musician. I keep trying to tell him that he can be those things at any point in his life, but if he dedicates himself to school and works hard, he can have 4 wonderful years at a place that will leave a lasting legacy in his life worthy of passing onto his kids. I wear my A&M sweater with pride, and I wish my eldest daughter would go there, but if she wants to go to UT, I can understand that as well, the couple of years I did there were pretty good. I am just relieved that she is not going to be wasting any money in Arizona because my degree from NAU is worth less than the paper its printed on.

Dear Roger;Playing Well With Others

Well I did it! I went out yesterday and I had coffee with a couple of friends in a public place and hung out for over four hours! We laughed and talked about all the things we have in common, mostly our love of the funky little band, and those that revolve around it, music and movies. They are vastly younger than me, but I dont really relate to people my age anyway. You dont find to many 41 year olds that still want to be down in the mosh pits or racing dirt bikes or doing other things that could potentially create mayhem. We made plans to go do other things like finally, for me, go to Powells Books! We are going to go on Thursday and I am pretty damn excited about that, even though I dont have a dime to spend there. We are also going to a concert on the 31st at the Doug Fir! I have friends now to do things with that I like doing, and that is pretty damn cool.

Things are as usual around here again, kids are back in school,(THANK GOD!), I am looking for a better job, and we are flat assed broke. So its pretty much SNAFU as usual. The weather is pretty damn cold and that makes getting outside not a lot of fun, but we are coping and we have enough hats and scarves and things to outfit a small army. I'm not a big fan of the winter hats, in fact I think they make me look a little dorky, but once my ears get cold, I quit giving a damn about the dorkiness of it all and I put the frakking hat on. My son is the one that chooses to freeze on a daily basis. I bought him hoodies, beanies, a hat with ear flaps, gloves and a black wool pea coat, but all he wears is a hoodie and maybe some days his fingerless gloves. I am amazed he hasn't had something fall off.

My son has been all weird again. I dont know if him and his girlfriend are fighting or what, but hes been so damn cranky and irritable and no fun to be around. His room smells like a YMCA locker room for transients, and he shaved himself again...totally. I dont get why he does that and it drives me a little crazy. I figure that maybe that is why he is a little cranky, after all, when all that starts growing back out, it has to itch like hell, but he shaves himself totally and its just weird. He hangs out in the house in his boxers, so its not like a big secret that hes normally a hairy guy. But he came into the kitchen yesterday and it was all gone, and even his sister noticed. "You shaved your chest and belly! EWWW!" and then I noticed that even his legs were bare and I was just a bit nonplussed. First I was distressed wondering if he had swiped my razor again, and then I was wondering what would compel a boy that should be thrilled to be physically more mature than guys his age, to do that to himself? I know they are doing swimming during gym class this section, but geesh! He just grabbed his plate and disappeared into his room after snarling at us to mind our own business. I just sent him a video file of the transformation of Jackson Rathbone into the 'Amanda" character on Criminal Minds" to his gmail. I heard him open it, but then he opened the door to his room and flipped me off and said,'NOT FUNNY,MOM!" I thought it was, he likes that episode and watches it every time it comes on. Boys are weird. I just gotta say that. I love him dearly, but I just dont get him some days.

Dear Roger;Telling It Like It Was

Its been a few days since I sat down and wrote to you, and I am sorry about that, but I have been writing my ass off on quite a few other things. I have 3 stories I am working on and I signed up to contribute a story to the "Fandom Against Domestic Violence" project. I also wrote out my story and I sent it to them. My way of writing is one that people either love or hate. I tend to not waste a lot of time with flowery word or phrases, and I just throw it down in as plain of English as it went down. I think it also offends many of the English grammar Nazis out there that I am still waging my rebellion against the so called," Styles" like APA,MPA and Chicago otherwise known as formatting and writer uniformity/insanity producing strait-jacketing. I tend to throw down commas like they are errant seeds, and I write like I talk, including phrases like,"Gonna, aint, gave me a flat-assed runaway, and whop-ass", so yeah, Betas and those who aren't familiar with Southern/Texan or just me, tend to have all kinds of seizures when the get ahold of some of my work, but those who get it, really seem to like it. I dont mind writing for a niche audience, the truth of the matter is, I just write for me, and if anybody else happens to read it, well, that suits me all to hell, and if they like it and maybe take something away from it, thats even better, but I write to save myself, not to please someone. But the Domestic Violence project is a little different, its actually writing for a purpose and I took the time to lay out the entire situation and events as the went down, honestly, directly and even as painfully and unfavorably as they may have been to me. I wanted people to realize that living in that kind of life is fraught with difficult and painful decisions that do not end once the parties split up and law enforcement is no longer involved. Sometimes the pain just goes on and on, and the wounds never heal, but not everyone turns into an addict or a drunk , though its hard to resist the temptation.

I wrote it out, submitted it and then I started having the nightmares again. Fuck! I cracked a tooth the first night grinding my teeth in my sleep and my bed looked like I had wrestled with a rabid wolverine. Ive been getting by on Tylenol and hot tea, and last night was actually the first night in a few a few that I didn't have problems, so I think I am over the hump. I listened to the Monkey boys last concert via streaming video for a while and talked to friends online until I settled down and that all seemed to help quite a bit, so its all getting better.

Speaking of the band, they really seem to be hitting the big time and thats good and bad. Good that they are finally getting the recognition for being so wonderful, but bad because that kind of fame brings in the jackals that might try to change them. Already some of the things that endeared them to so many of their fans have changed, instead of their funky little way of getting around in ratty cars and a trailer that was spray painted and adorned with monkeys, they now have a tour bus. They have Mtv following them, and that is ...meh. Kinda expecting to hear that cameras wont be allowed at shows anymore if MTV gets their hooks into them too deep, and they finally have security, which to me as a former cop and always mom, is a good thing because frankly it scared the snot outta me that they just roamed about the country with no one watching their 6, but that also means a distance now...a loss of the intimacy and connections, its just inevitable. Fame is a difficult monster to control, I just hope it doesn't eat them.

School starts back tomorrow for the kids and I am actually going to get out and go have tea with some friends! I even met with a friend yesterday and it was soo damn cool. I am actually getting out and meeting people and trying to socialize and build human connections so that I dont just sit at home writing all the time, though I dont mind doing that either. I have written some more poetry and even a couple of more songs, so its not like my brain is just stagnating or something. My resolutions were to keep on trying harder, and to actually have a man to kiss this next new years eve, even if I had to go an knock on my young, gay neighbors door and give him the shock of his life, but I hope to actually meet a guy this year that I wouldn't mind kissing in the new year or who wouldn't mind me kissing them. Its been over 3 years since I have had a kiss from a man, same since anything else has gone on and I damn sure dont want to make it 4 years without some form of male contact. My ex actually had a woman interested in him. Yeah...seriously. He got asked for his phone number, they are now FB friends and talking I guess daily. She admitted to liking him for awhile. My frakking ex is more than likely gonna get some before me. What the hell is wrong with this picture?