Really, I'm with the Band!!

Is she really back?

2008-07-02T07:37:00.001-07:00

So today i was looking at some friend's blogs and I thought, "geez, they are so good, writing everyday". I have these bursts of blogging and then long, creaky silences, then burst again. the last time I thought about blogging, I got overwhelmed by all the shit I could write about. I'd just gotten back from Australia,had been on tour quite a bit in the beginning of the year. (So much to have blogged about Texas, holy crap).

I got to watch the Beastie Boys from backstage at the Langerado Festival in Florida. Damn, that was AWESOME!

got the FRESHEST Hello Kitty purse in Athens GA.

Tons of stuff to blog about, but then I just didn't. So today I thought, well, I'll just write whatever. so here it is.

whatever

Last friday i had the day off (sort of....i'm always trying to network and connect with folks and build my client base) but anyway, I'd gone and looked at a few places, as I thought it might be time to spread out the old wings and move my business out of the house and into a "place". Which is kind of funny, when I mention to my clients that I may move the business they get all bummed out. They like the house vibe and they like my space in it. Anyways, I was out friday and I went to some spots that I've driven by but hadn't been into. It was kind of fun to have the time to explore. I went to a bookstore called In Other Words. It's a women's book store. Which i think is weird to call it that. Most of the books were for or about women and women's issues, but I always feel like that narrows your market. The space was really cool. They had couches that you could hang out on. And a kind of open space in the back for classes and whatnot. They had a bunch of activities and events that were posted up on the wall behind the woman who was checking me out. (my books and cards, not me...geez, dirty mind much) so I'm looking up there and they have Homorobics which is an exercise class they hold on Sunday. I asked the gal, do I have to be a homo to come to class. She said no. But still, very limiting and narrowing. I'm gonna take the class at some point. They also have a free writing workshop on the 3rd wednesday of the month. So I'm going to check that out too. It's in the neighborhood, I can ride my bike and I could start writing again.

I also went to a great coffee shop called Javarama. It seemed like the coffeehouse for the Jetsons. It was next door to a place i was checking out. Good mocha's and attached to a fun looking hair salon.

After the Java place, I bought a 3 dollar ironing board. (Score of the day!) and treated myself to Russel Street BBQ. After a couple of beers and meat, I headed home and watched a couple of episodes of Weeds in my backyard. I sat in an Adirondack chair in the middle of the grass, gazing at my flowers in the yard.

My backyard is fucking awesome. Totally private. Tons of flowers and established trees and plants. Lots of color. Thick green lawn. Very nice. I just need some lights out there so we can hangout back there at night. Sitting in the yard, at one point i wished my old man was home so he could be enjoying the sun we finally got and the yard and

our house. But alas, he's gotta make the donuts. With the new record out, they are going to be touring hard for awhile.

(oh yeah, shameless plug for my husband and the band. after you've finished reading my blog, go buy the new G. Love and Special Sauce record "Superhero Brother" it's a really fun summer soundtrack.....with some pretty sweet bass licks from my old man) You can pick it up on Itunes or at Amazon.com or your local record store while there are still record stores to shop in.

Today is the second day of my birthday month and I gotta tell you I'm fucking jazzed this time. Last month I could feel it bubbling up, the birthday month excitement and I was glad to feel it again. Last year we bought a house a month before my birthday and then I was out of town on the east coast preparing for my mom's 70th birthday. so for me, it was a little anti-climatic. but this year, I'm rocking out for real! I think I might throw a garden party and invite friends to enjoy the yard and me in it. WOO HOO JULY!

There's not much bacon can't fix

2008-02-28T09:15:00.000-08:00

When I got home from tour, I had a hankering for tomato basil soup. I had cup in the airport on the way to Houston and it was damn damn good. It's not often you find actual good food in an airport. I had only ordered a cup....and didn't have time to order another one. So the soup was on on my mind for most of time I was out on the road. Once I was back at home,I searched on line, found some Tomato Basil Soup recipes, mixed and matched a few and whipped up the soup. It's ok. not as good as ones I've made before, or the one I had in the airport. But good enough. Had a bowl. waited a day, thought it maybe needed to settle. I started to think, how could I fix it? Thicken it up a bit. Should I add spice? Just seemed kind of blando. When I put the soup in the fridge I noticed we had a little bacon. When I saw it I thought, what could I do with the bacon? BLT's? It was just a few slices. Hmmm. Then I started reading my husband's cook's illustrated magazine I saw a recipe for simple Italian-style meat sauce. For some reason I thought maybe the recipe included bacon.....it didn't. But the recipe looked really good so I ended up making that and it was damn awesome. I followed the directions exactly. I figured the test kitchen people worked hard to figure out the best way to make it so why don't I just trust the experts. Generally, as I mentioned with the soup, I research recipes and try to create one from all of them that tastes great. Lately, except for the soup, I've been pretty successful. Anyway, i scooped up a spoonful of sauce and tasted it and it was so delicious I was kind of startled. Not startled, but definitely surprised. The combination of flavors made it simply delicious. I tasted it and it reminded me of Anthony. My sister's old roommate. Anthony died of A.I.D.S. but before he did, he taught me how to make sauce and meatballs from his grandma's family recipe. the flavors in this sauce was exactly the same as his. I hadn't thought of Anthony in a long time As I sampled my sauce, i was flooded with memories of Antny. When he died I think I was a freshman in college. I'd known him probably 10 years. He'd been in a band with my sister and roommates with her as well. I used to go up to Boston and visit her in the summers. The first time I met Antny he was in his underwear (I think they were either red or blue and they were um...form fitting) painting the kitchen. I came out of my sister's room, she had gone to work I think and I was like Woah. and he was all, "Hi, you're Donyne's sister" or something. I went back in the room and called my sister at work. She informed me of who he was and that he did live there. So I went back out into the kitchen.....and so my relationship with this super fun gay man began. He was the coolest most interesting kind of guy I'd ever met at that time. He was a waiter at Friday's (When Friday's was new and cool) and he wanted to make a hat out a big tub of fluff he had on the top of his fridge. He asked if I liked fluff......Fuck Yes. So he proceeded to feed me fluff n nutters galore. I was in heaven, we NEVER had fluff at home. This guy was awesome. When I met him, I was too young to really get what gay was. I just thought he was fun. He had toys and he had fluff and he was just damn fun. So as I kept tasting the sauce I kept thinking of making sauce with him in his kitchen. And him telling me how he used to make the gravy on Saturdays with his grandmother. It was an all day affair. but when we finally sat down and ate it, incredible, just like this sauce I made. It was nice to think of Antny.......but what about the bacon?

So this morning I pull out the bacon, the soup a little cheese. I cooked the bacon, chopped it up and sprinkled it on top of the soup....with a little Italian cheese mixture on top. Soup fixed...thanks to bacon.

It's good to have connections

2008-02-19T07:51:00.001-08:00

So I was on tour this weekend down in LA. Had been looking forward to the trip for a while as it kicks off several trips away from the cold and rainy northwest. Friday night, great fun. Good show, danced, partied with friends I hadn't seen in a while. Good times. Next day, woke up and reached for my vitamins, I was out. I knew my old man had some, but he was sleeping so I thought I'd ask him for them after he woke up. I never remembered to ask. That afternoon, we were invited out to a bbq. We went & ate like fools. When you are on the road, the chances to eat a home cooked meal are few and far between so we grubbed it up. Some of the best food I'd had in a while...a real meat fest. got back to the slanty bus. ( we were parked on an angle next to the HOB, shit was sliding down toward the front of the bus....) had a puff and started to cough. Not totally unusual, but the cough continued into the night. Just a little cough. Didn't think much of it. met up with more good friends and had cocktails and dinner. Rocked out at the show, had more cocktails and generally more fun. That evening I was supposed to have the day room as I was leaving the tour to go back home the next day and the band was leaving that evening to go the next city but due to a room mix up & the singer getting sick, we ended up sleeping in the drivers room that night. I think that was the kicker.....he is a smoker and the room smelled worse than the bar. smokey and gross. I hardly slept due to the stink, the tiny bed, and my husband rolling over on me due to the tinyness of the bed. my head was pounding, I was nauseous and mud butt was in full effect. When we checked out, I had the chills, the sweats and a headache. My husband insisted I must have partied too much and I kept telling him, no, this really doesn't feel like a hangover dear, it feels like the flu. So we walked around and tried to find something to eat. We ended up going back to the hotel and me having a nap by the pool. Took some advil and the fever started to break. I felt a world better. (comparatively). that evening I was home back in my own bed. I thought if I just get a good night of sleep, I'll probably be cool. Nope. I slept for a while and then woke up with the rigors. I was moaning and thrashing. My husband asked me at one point when should he take me to the emergency room. I told him never. I thrashed around for a while and finally he gave me something to sleep and I passed out. Woke up coughing a few hours later. the flu or whatever this is really had me in its grasp. Totally sucks. Luckily, I had a massage scheduled for that night. My wellness associate Dr. Amanda Anderson, gave me a hydro therapy treatment. and then I had the massage. not too deep. I came home and slept...and slept and slept. I still am a little snotty this morning, but the fever is definitely gone and my body doesn't hurt to walk, move or blink. I am so thankful to have health connections. If you get a chance and need some wellness help, and you are in Portland Oregon, check out Emily Gilbert at Emilygilbertmassage.com and Dr. Amanda Anderson at FamilyTreeMedicine.com. They are wellness rock stars!

I think I may have turned off the hurry

2008-02-02T07:04:00.000-08:00

Time

I used to be very

uptight

about being

on it.

But I've grown

soft & soggy

in this Portland bubble~

3 years of

rain

has softened my

soul

and I think I may have

turned off the

hurry. Washed

clean of the

need for

speed.

Shanta M. (2008)

Thanks Jon

2005-09-09T19:05:00.000-07:00

I just read this at About.com.

A transcript of Jon Stewart's remarks about Hurricane Katrina.

"There's a lot of confusion over blame and pointing fingers and the response to the obviously horrible tragedy of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, and whether or not the government did enough, whether or not there was miscommunication, some bureaucratic bungling. So let me just say this. The short answer is: Yes. The long answer, of course, is: YEEEEEESSSSSS!"

"The real question is in the four years since 9/11, you have to ask yourself, has the government’s advancements, procedures, etc. made us safer, given us more comfort that they will have an effective, or more effective response to catastrophic events? And I think it’s very clear the answer is: 'Oh shit, we're in trouble."

"Now for people who are saying, 'Well, let’s stop pointing fingers at the president, the left-wing media is being too hard on him' — no. Shut up. No. This is inarguably — inarguably — a failure of leadership from the top of the federal government. Remember when Bill Clinton went out with Monica Lewinsky. That was inarguably a failure of judgment at the top. Democrats had to come out and risk losing credibility if they did not condemn Bill Clinton for his behavior. I believe Republicans are in the same position right now, and I will say this: Hurricane Katrina is George Bush’s Monica Lewinsky. The only difference is that tens of thousands of people weren’t stranded in Monica Lewinsky’s vagina. Although, this is an interesting point, her vagina at the time was also known at the Superdome…Do you prefer the Big Easy?"

"But that is my point, so please, stop with the 'well, people are carping on the president.' He didn’t even stop his vacation for three days, I mean, please, just shut up."

I've said it before and I'll say it again, Thanks Jon for saying what I think out loud on TV.

Go check it out for your self at

http://www.comedycentral.com/shows/the_daily_show/index.jhtml

(you'll probably have to cut and paste that since I still haven't figured out the link thing on blogger.)

(((Peace)))

Black Psychologists Respond to Hurricane Katrina- And I agree!!

2005-09-08T07:25:00.000-07:00

I just read this on my friend Ruth King's website (see side bar for link- Healing Rage). It's a good and powerful read. Read the whole thing and try to take a minute to really digest it! Black Folks are Americans too!!! I'm pretty disgusted by the lack of response.(yeah, that's a little of the blame game and you know who I'm blamin') Help the folks (all the folks of all walks of life) who have been devastated by this tragedy if you can!

Black Psychologists Respond to Hurricane Katrina

National President's Statement on Hurricane Katrina.

Posted: September 6, 2005

Robert Atwell, Psy.D.ABPsi National President 2005/2007

Black psychologists respond to Hurricane Katrina

This message is a compilation of thoughts being shared between the members of the ABPsi. Almost immediately after Hurricane Katrina struck the Gulf coast, communication began to take place between our members regarding the experiences of grief and dismay being experienced in response to the losses and hardships being imposed by nature on the people of Alabama, Louisiana, and Mississippi. Their lives were being severely disrupted by this natural disaster. It was particularly disheartening to be confronted with the images on our television screens of the disproportionate number of African Americans who were unable to evacuate their communities. As the days wore on it became apparent that these African decent people in New Orleans and the Gulf area were essentially experiencing a modern day Maafa, an event of catastrophic death and destruction beyond human comprehension. The emotional agony expressed by the generally stoic news reporters was a testament to the magnitude of the trauma unfolding in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.

The disproportionate degree to which our people were having to bear the brunt of the suffering and loss is clearly attributable to the economic and social stratification that exists within this society at large. It was made undeniably evident in New Orleans. This disparity exists because of our people’s economic and social oppression under a system where both societal and governmental manifestations of white supremacy continue to play out. The insidious effects of such exclusion from access to society’s resources and ongoing stigmatization was evidenced by the rapid disintegration and loss of hope by these people after two days of inadequate response or at times no response from the government. Some of the press coverage was especially distasteful and shameful, even if not surprising.

What happens to a people who have been dispossessed, despised, and disinherited when tragedy occurs? The answer is that they are seen as dispensable and can thus be destroyed and disposed of. The destruction of a people is preceded by the defamation of one’s character. This is exactly what has happened to thousands of African Americans living or who lived in New Orleans, Louisiana from Monday, August 29, 2005 until the present. A city known for its revelry and festive atmosphere was devastated by Hurricane Katrina. The amazing aspect about this hurricane is that it started out in a manner that almost went unnoticed by meteorologists and other weather analysts. Although the devastation that it caused clearly has gained the attention of the world, like the beginnings of the storm the aid that has been rendered to the survivors has been relatively unnoticed by them. What the hurricane survivors have noticed is benign neglect. This happened in large part because the surviving Black population that had to remain in New Orleans has suffered from the defamation of character. While aid and rescue has been slow to fly towards the survivors, the pejorative euphemisms regarding the African American survivors of Hurricane Katrina have flown freely.

A young man was able to start a New Orleans Parish School Bus and safely drive people (40- 50) from New Orleans, Louisiana to the Astrodome in Houston, Texas was called a thief. The bus was called a “renegade bus” and the hurricane survivors on the bus were denied access to the Astrodome because they did not come directly from the New Orleans Superdome on a designated bus and they had arrived sooner than the designated chartered busses. The survivors were given water and later allowed to enter. Some report the seventeen-year-old bus driver was arrested when he was returning to go back the New Orleans to rescue others. If he had been White he would have been called a hero but he was not White, he was Black. Thus he was called a renegade. When the displaced residents of New Orleans finally arrived at the Houston Astrodome they were called refugees. A refugee is defined as a person who flees to a foreign country or power to escape danger or power. These people were simply evacuees from a flooded city and the bus driver was resourceful.

In a similar story of survival, people were securing survival items for themselves and their families. When the news reported that the people were White, the caption read “two residents wade through chest-deep water finding bread and soda from a local grocery store.” When a reporter for the Associated Press saw Blacks doing the same thing, the story read, “A young man walks through chest-deep water after looting a grocery store.” The difference in the perception of these two situations was in the perspective of the reporters. The perception is largely guided by the contemporary thought of society. Blacks are portrayed as negative within American society therefore their behaviors were judged accordingly.

The world saw thousands of African Americans sitting at the Superdome waiting for some assistance for more than three days. The scene was akin to events of Haiti or Kosovo or any war torn country. Desperation could be seen on the faces of so many people. This is a very shocking reality when Americans reported assisting Asian Tsunami victims within 48 hours. While time elapsed, the Katrina survivors were said to have resorted to total anarchy. They had reportedly begun to shoot at the “law” officials and other forms of rescue units. They had also been reported to have had engaged in raping and killing children. Thus they have been called rapists. There was more effort placed on restoring order via the military troops (Martial Law) than on getting supplies to people and rescuing stranded individuals. People with adequate resources are more likely to be cooperative than those suffering for the basic necessities of life. An eye-witness reporter suggested people shot guns at helicopters that were passing over them going to mostly White, Kenner and Metairie, LA (Metairie, LA is home to a nationally known Ku Klux Klan’s member David Duke) and rescuing people there rather than saving those in the severely flooded areas of New Orleans. They said the shots were fired because the Blacks were being unnoticed again and had become upset about this. It was also reported that all of the patients in the mostly White Tulane Hospital had been completely evacuated, while the mostly Black patients of Charity Hospital were being transported out slowly. Was this act of benign neglect? Many of the African American citizens of New Orleans saw this as such and became even more frustrated at the blatant racism.

The perpetrators of such “racist” acts do so out of their own spiritual bankruptcy and culturally hard wiring to be “anti other.” Their language consequently reflects their internal set. Looters? Renegades? Refugees? Rapists? All of these are terms that are designed to dehumanize a people and thus justify their ill treatment. On a psychological level we see where people who have been denied access to the goodness of life have been relegated to be the scum of the earth. Who were these people left behind in New Orleans? Why were they there following the call for a mandatory evacuation? These people were mostly working class Blacks who either could not afford to leave or did not have adequate transportation to leave. These were the people that made the city pop although they got very little recognition for their contributions. These people were the ones that had been passed over long before Hurricane Katrina relief helicopters passed them over. The distinction between the “haves” and the “have nots” was ever present to one who visited “The Big Easy.” Classism and racism is still the order of the day in New Orleans. The ones who we have seen on television are mostly the heartbeat of the city. Just as our heartbeat, which is vital to our existence, is often unnoticed to us in our daily actions, these people had gone unnoticed. We often notice our heartbeat during times of excitation or stress, just as we are noticing the dispossessed of the “Crescent City.” The media assault on these vital people has caused an angina pectoris (i.e. a chest pain, which occurs because the muscle tissue of the heart must continue its activity without a sufficient supply of oxygen) to America. The world has seen how America treats its despised citizens. In an effort to justify the ill treatment of African Americans in this situation defamation of character is being carried out. The psychological damage that results from the defamation of character is long lasting and is slow to be removed.

The Association of Black Psychologists denounces the utilization of the usage of the term refugees for domestic citizens who have been displaced from their homes due to an act of God.

We further denounce the utilization of the word looters, in a discriminatory manner, for those individual seeking the secure some of the necessities of life.

We further denounce the utilization of the term renegade for those who have applied their genius to engage in an act of heroism in time of need.

We further denounce the application of the term rapist to a large portion of African Americans who are honorable and respectful.

The utilization of such terms is psychologically damaging and also delays the hurricane survivors from receiving the assistance that they need because people are less likely to help people that hurting them.

We advance that more appropriate terminology (e.g. hurricane survivors, evacuees, displaced citizens) be used to ensure that the adequate assistance is rendered to displaced people of the Gulf coast.

We vow to render the culturally appropriate assistance to these evacuees wherever they may be found. This assistance will be in line with the essence of a people who have experienced years of benign neglect.

We further vow to assist the survivors of Hurricane Katrina with career counseling and job readiness training.

We seek to ensure that the children receive an appropriate education in an environment that is understanding of their unique situation of being displaced.

We seek to inspire the inherent value and worth of these estranged children by acknowledging their strengths of resilience and resourcefulness.

We seek to assist the families with securing adequate housing, healthy food and clean clothes, employment, and childcare and charge our membership to facilitate such acquisition by opening their homes to displaced evacuees in the spirit of African kinship.

We recognize that this effort to enhance the well being of our people is a long-term undertaking that involves working in conjunction with the existing crisis response teams that are already in operation to achieve immediate results. This work must be followed up with collaborative engagement with many existing agencies and service networks to address the long-term needs made so evident by this disaster. We are committed also to utilizing our expertise to create culturally congruent programs where it becomes apparent that none currently exist.

The Association of Black Psychologists is committed to functioning within the spirit of Afro-centric unity to accomplish these aims.

I AM BECAUSE WE ARE AND BECAUSE WE ARE THEREFORE I AM.

Dr. Robert Atwell is the National President of The Association of Black Psychologists. He may be reached in care of the National Office. (PO Box 55999, Washington, D. C. 20040-5999 - Phone: (202) 722-0808).

Love thy neighbor?

2005-08-24T08:00:00.000-07:00

''You know, I don't know about this doctrine of assassination, but if he thinks we're trying to assassinate him, I think that we really ought to go ahead and do it.'' ``We have the ability to take him out, and I think the time has come that we exercise that ability.'' Pat Robertson, 700 Club

So, what part of that isn’t a call for an assassination? I am watching the 700 Club right now as I wanted to check in with this fool and see what he’d say today after a day full of media talking about his words. Would there be back peddling? Would he say "yep, i said it, let's take this guy out!!! So I've tuned in. And there he is all big on my TV, and today he says that he was misquoted by the AP and he didn’t ask for an assassination. Which of course made me go back and research and see exactly what he said…..and guess what, doesn’t seem like a misquote to me? Read it for yourself. Make your own call.

So I continued to watch this 700 Club, which is weirdly set up like a morning news show, and am pretty disgusted by the rhetoric I’m hearing. Such a shame to see someone using god/the lord or whatever to perpetuate hate. It just doesn’t make sense to me in terms of how you are supposed to behave as a Christian. I’ve been away from it for a minute, I’ll admit, but from what I recall from my church days, love your neighbor as you would love yourself. I’m not getting that vibe as I sit here watching the 700 Club. Instead, I feel like I'm getting, Love your neighbor as long as he agrees with you. But like John Stewart said last night, when you have your own channel, you can say whatever the F@#k you want without being censored.

Now I’m not saying he’s on here gripping the bible with white knuckles and shouting out for death and whatnot, but his verbal tactics are quite manipulative and I think even more dangerous than him just coming out and saying “assassinate Chavez!”. But wait, read the quote above again.

Just seems kind of fucked up to me. But the really fucked up thing is, now that he’s on my tv, I can’t look away!!!

Wow, it’s really like a morning news show…but with prayer. He interviewed a guy from South America who I think he thought would also call for the assassination of Chavez, since some Chavez supporters last year shot into a cafe or something and his mother & grandparents were hit.(pardon me, I think the term Pat used was Gunned down by thugs supporting chavez) but instead the guest said he did not agree with Mr. Robertson in terms of the way to deal with Chavez was to call for an assassination.(That’s when Mr. Roberts said he was misquoted by the AP, which ultimately caused this posting)…..then we went to the other correspondent ( who reminded me of Condaleeza ) and talked a bit about the confirmation hearings and a book you could buy..oops...I mean, you could get for free with a donation....that would help you understand the supreme court. When you buy the book, I mean make your donation and receive the book as a gift, it comes with a little postcard for you to read over and sign and send back to the 700 Club so they can then send it on to the president, so he knows we are praying for him and that we support him in ALL of his decisions. Then we prayed that the lord, who is the ultimate judge of all the earth, would take control of the confirmation hearings and that we may see not one but several judges in succession so that there might be change for years to come and to give us his blessing in this way.

Now we’re in the kitchen making pancakes with Pat. These pancakes are some kind of Pat Robertson special. Pat’s protein pancake. You can eat them as long as you want to and never feel guilty according to Pat. He has this thing called Skinny Wednesday. Oh wait, now they are called Pat’s Age-defying Protein Pancakes, which you can find this recipe in his Robust Living news letter. And it’s free!(no, really, it's free, no donation or anything) Now Mr. Robertson is giving tips on health and diet to viewers who have written in with questions. Isn’t that nice? And he is also promoting natural medicines. Now he’s pitching his weight loss challenge. ( this is included in the Robust Living news letter with the pancake recipe). The commercial that follows this segment, Curves exercise studios and their 6 week solution to weight loss.

Ugh, I think it’s time to turn the channel, quick while a commercial is on.

Funding the Revolution

2005-07-14T09:54:00.000-07:00

Your Stripper Info by radioface
first name
age
Stripper Name:	Billy Jean
Specialty:	spinning around on the pole
Customers say:	"Look at her go! Weee!"

Quiz created with MemeGen!

So I've been away from the posting.......not cuz I haven't wanted to post, but wasn't sure just where to begin. I wanted to post something fresh...not bitch too much... not prattle on about my NEW PHAT PAD...or my awesome new neighborhood.....

So to ease back into the swing of blog, I started by updating my personal profile. I entered my interests and found when I did it right, my interests would link me to other bloggers with the same interests. So I clicked on the one that was Aqua Teen Hunger Force and found this blog that had this insert your name and find out what your stripper name would be. Now, I'm not currently looking for a new profession. I'm still enjoying my time off and my transition to the new location, but according to Sextv, Portland Oregon has the most strip clubs per capita than ANYWHERE in the United States....the odds are if I really need a gig, or need money to fund the revolution, this might be the profession to consider.....

So, long story shortened:

One Crafty Chick (That's me)
Stripper Name: Tiffy
Specialty: Mastering those stilettos
Customer's Say: "Are those real?" (Hell Yes!!)

What's your Stripper name? Clear out my name and age and put yours in.....Try it...it's funny. Maybe we could start our own strip club... I could get a tent for the backyard, and we could sell lemonade and condoms.....we gotta make some money to fund this revolution!

So glad I'm back......hope you're ready!

The Longest Friday EVER!

2005-04-01T12:04:00.000-08:00

I’m at work. It’s only 11:18 am. I just turned to my co-worker and told her I was going to jump out the window. Just to liven things up. Oh, it’s Friday, my boss is out at his family beach house enjoying one of the more beautiful days in the bay area and here I sit. Listening to KFOG, reading other blogs and wishing I were outside. Soon….soon…..soon. Usually, knowing that there is light at the end of this tunnel helps me get through the day, but not today. It’s going by ever so slowly. (now 11:21). And I really hate this song on KFOG.

I’ll be in Hawaii in about 10 days, massaging rock stars (or at least their crew) enjoying the sun, spending time with my husband (whom I haven’t seen or spoken to …cept for e-mail…in 19 days). Yes, this sitting is truly a test of patience. (11:26)

So they say things happen in threes. Celebrity deaths especially. With the death of the Pope today (or not), that makes three. Johnny Cochran, Terri Schiavo & the Pope. Why did I include Terri? Well, she’s a celebrity…a household name now. She counts. Speaking of which, I was watching South Park last night. Oh man! All about Terri….except it was Kenny they were trying to keep alive with a feeding tube. Those guys are always on the pulse man. Remember when they did the episode that parodied the Elian dealio in Florida and they had Janet Reno in a Bunny suit with a machine gun. Or the voting fiasco in Florida (the first time)? South Park…no one gets away with shit on that show. (11:32) And people wonder why I mostly watch cartoons. It’s one of the only media outlets left where you can see the truth.

I got an e-mail from Ticketmaster (yeah, I know, they are the devil). It said “Don’t Miss Snoop Dog!”. Well of course I wouldn’t want to do that….except he’s playing in Marysville. Where the fuck is Marysville? Well I looked it up. It’s near Yuba City…that cleared it up for me. I zoomed the mapquest map out to see where it was physically in the state, and it doesn’t really look like a spot that you’d run into Snoop Dog…or his fans. (11:39) But what do I know? I was on tour with my husband out in Louisiana they were playing a festival that included Missy Elliot and Snoop Dog and a bunch of other bands. I figured, Louisiana, a snoop dog show here would be hot. Well, it was…when he finally got on stage. But the fans…that was one of the weirdest experiences I’ve had. I’m standing there in a crowd of many, many, many, southern white boys who were drunk on bud and avid fans of snoop. Fucking weird. Here I am (black girl from Connecticut) with one of the crew guys girlfriend (Asian woman from Philly) standing in a crowd of drunken meatheads….waiting to hear Snoop. Fucking surreal. We stayed for about 2 songs before I had to get the fuck up out of there. I couldn’t take another redneck trying to touch my hair….or trying to talk to me in Ebonics. Freaky. (11:46)

There are still so many hours of work left!! Damn. This is the longest Friday EVER! (11:56)

I have a cool Mother In Law

2005-03-11T11:58:00.000-08:00

She E-Mailed this to me today:

Women who read

One morning the husband returns after several hours of fishing and decides to take a nap. Although not familiar with the lake, the wife decides totake the boat out. She motors out a short distance, anchors, and reads her book. Along comes a game warden in his boat. He pulls up along side the woman and says, "Good morning Ma'am. What are you doing?"
"Reading a book," she replies, (thinking, "Isn't that obvious?")
"You're in a restricted fishing area," he informs her.
"I'm sorry officer, but I'm not fishing, I'm reading."
"Yes, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could
start at any moment. I'll have to take you in and write you up."
"If you do that, I'll have to charge you with sexual assault," says the woman.
"But I haven't even touched you," says the game warden.
"That's true, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment."
"Have a nice day ma'am", and he left.

***MORAL: Never argue with a woman who reads. It's likely she can also think.

Thanks Carolyn!

The Mind is a Terrible thing to Waste

2005-02-22T10:25:00.000-08:00

So I started this thing about a year ago at my desk. I put up pictures of things I want to have in my life. I can't say exactly where I got this idea, considering I've read countless, self help, guruish, spiritual, existential readings, but the one thing that stands out in my mind about this is idea was when I was watching an interview with someone, (For some reason I think of Nicholas Cage, or Keanu Reeves, or maybe even John Travolta, or maybe Chris Rock, I don't know who the hell it was) Anyway, they were being interviewed and the person giving the interview said that he wanted to see the million dollar check, so the celebrity takes out his wallet and pulls out this check he wrote to himself when he first got into the business. (Now I remember, it was Jim Carey) The check was made out to himself for 1 Million dollars. When times were rough, he'd look at the the check and remind himself that one day he'd be able to cash that check. He then talked about the day he was paid 1 million dollars to make a movie. (It might have been the Mask) And as we all know, he's a giant success and can cash that check over and over again. From what I understand, he still carries this check in his wallet.

I've had a picture of a craftsman style home and a picture of a massage therapist giving a massage on a platform in the middle of the clear blue ocean since our office moved in March, 2004. I've got pictures of other stuff up at my desk too. Some wedding shots, picture of me Marching On Washington , a M.U.F.F. Postcard, a pretty good labeled drawing of the muscles on the back, my "I am Pro-Choice America" sign from NARAL, a Beastie Boys poster, pictures of Oscar the baby, a Staff listing for the San Francisco Superior court, and prayer card with a picture of our Lady of Guadalupe from St. Patrick's Cathedral in NYC. But those two pictures, the house and the massage gig A.K.A my Dream home & dream job were put up specifically to help me focus on what I really want in my life. They are right at eye level with my computer and I see them every time I sit down to do work at my desk.

It occurred to me over the weekend, that these things are coming to fruition in my life. And since I'm actually noticing it, I'd like to give thanks to the goddess right now. Thanks.

You really can have whatever you want.

The only thing holding you from it is your own mind.

Kinda Trippy.

The wrong donut

2005-02-17T10:56:00.000-08:00

My husband left this morning for tour. A 3 month world wide rock and roll tour. We've been together for over 10 years and I'm used to this type of scheduling, but it still sucks when he leaves. So, I'm a little down. But I figured, it's nothing a donut couldn't fix. The cure for all depression. I was actually looking for the ultimate in comfort morning food...a chocolate eclair. Filled with delicious custard. MMMM. I got downtown early today, and began my search. San Francisco leaves much to be desired in the way of donuts. I grew up on Dunkin Donuts. The most awesome donut in the land. I don't care what you say about those stinky krispy kremes (more on that in a minute) Dunkin Donuts rules. And with a cup of their coffee. Light and sweet. You just can't go wrong. But alas, no Dunkin Donuts in San Francisco or the bay area for that matter. I stopped at my Happy Donut place, but the donuts that looked like eclairs had no filling. So I take off. I'm walking along and I see a sign in front of the SF Soup Company with a picture of a boston creme donut (via krispy kreme....ick) but I was down and desparate. I couldn't get my clutches on an eclair so I paid A FREAKING DOLLAR for a regular sized filled donut. ( and might I add, the regular size Krispy Kreme donut is smaller than Dunkin Donuts and way more sugary) My hopes aren't super high at this point, but I figure, this donut, albeit smaller than the eclair, is pretty much the same as it is full of custard, covered with the chocolate frosting and looking like a smaller version of an eclair so my need for comfort will most likely be met. WRONGO! I should no better than to eat the Krispy Kreme donut. I already know I don't like them. The few I have had have NEVER MET MY SATISFACTION...but as I mentioned I was desparate. I got to my desk, turned on the computer, started checking my e-mail and took a bite of the donut. It was full of that white cream that used to fill the chocolate hostess cupcakes. I got a mouth full of what I thought would be custard but was instead..this white junk. Ugh. I was none to pleased. I ate it of course. (Fuck, the thing cost me a damn dollar.) But never...NEVER again will I eat the Krispy Kreme. I don't care how desparate or depressed I am. I'll do without...or satisfy my need for comfort with a good old fashioned cocktail and forget about it!

A small ray of hope.

2005-02-11T11:34:00.000-08:00

A friend e-mailed me this article by Howard Zinn.

http://www.commondreams.org/views05/0210-28.htm

It helped.

(Sorry, can't click on it, you'll have to cut and paste. Still new to the blog deal)

(((Peace)))

What is the opposite of a kiss?

2005-02-10T06:57:00.000-08:00

A kiss turned inside out
it's opposite - negative
dry style- unintentional
moving through the motions. How
empty, how lonely, the
opposite of a kiss of something
tender might leave scars on my
skin, my arms sheilding a
face in a protective mode against
the opposite of sharing and being
vulnerable. And this chill keeps rising
up my spine when I consider the
opposite of a kiss as it reflects the
political climate. cold. no embrace
and I'm terrified by the
snarling pointy teeth I see coming
at me. The opposite of a kiss.
Cold, again with the cold and bloody
teeth gnashing at the flesh of
democracy. Don't lean in toward me
Condi- with the poison, with the lies, with
the opposite of a kiss. Lies spilling out
over vacant stares..is there any soul in there?
The opposite of a kiss. Babies faces
squint and pout as pure eyes view the
opposition and have no
words to speak out about
innocence tainted before they have
a chance to live.
The opposite of a kiss
I imagine is very very cold.

(c) Feb 9, 2005
Guerilla poetry at La Pena

Just Stay Home Sickie

2005-02-03T15:45:00.000-08:00

I came down with whatever hideousness that’s been going around the office. I was so sick that there were moments when I thought my head was going to explode right off my shoulders in a fevered splatter of brain matter and snot. This office is a freaking germ factory. I’ve been swabbing things down with Lysol wipes and using my hand sanitizer after each sneeze, hack and nose blow and still, the germs seem to be winning. People around here are dropping like flies whacked with a shot of raid mid flight. It’s crazy. I work in a building that doesn’t have any windows that open. That’s right, no fresh air. Just recycled germy air. Nice.

What’s really crazy though is that folks feel like they have to come to work. Even when they are sick. As soon as I feel sick, and it’s work day, I call in. Mostly because it pisses me off so much that other people don’t. I don’t want to be lumped into the category of folks who spread the germs all around. I truly believe that if people just stayed home at the very first sign of infection, it would decrease the spread of these germs. (oh yeah, and washing your damn hands!!) From all the stuff I’ve read, most colds and flu bugs are contagious the first few days of the cold. (actually, with colds, as long as you are showing symptoms, you are contagious, but if it’s the flu, you’re contagious the first 4 days or something…..but don’t take it from me…do the research yourself) By the time you really get kicked in the ass by the office bug dujour, (which is usually when you finally call in sick) it’s too late, you’ve already infected everyone else in the office. (cuz you coughed in your hand, which I totally appreciate as it is the polite thing to do, and then used the fax machine, or the copier or the printer or the handle to the bathroom with that same hand)

But just staying home isn’t that easy. I personally have some weird catholic work guilt complex. (and I’m not even catholic) that forces me into the office against my better judgment sometimes. Except when it comes to being sick. I also understand (as I used to be a temp) that sometimes you have to go to work sick. No work, no cash. Simple as that. Which is pretty fucked up. But on the other side of the coin, all you employers out there who won’t pay for insurance deserve to get infected with the same hideous flu virus the peons who serve you do. Bring down the whole ship!!! But that really punishes your coworkers who don’t have anything to do with the boss who won’t insure you. So if you can. Stay home. If you can’t stay home, be hyper vigilant about washing your hands after you cough, blow your nose, sneeze. I know, I know, that means you’ll be running to the bathroom every few seconds…but this is where a small bottle of hand sanitizer can come in handy.

Listen, I'm ranting like this because I just don’t want anyone to have whatever it was I just had (and kind of still have but not to the same hideous degree it was a few days ago). And yes, I’m back at work. Wielding my hand sanitizer for all the world to see. Actions speak louder than words.

(((Peace)))

Just a little clammy

2005-01-27T16:11:00.000-08:00

All day I’ve been in a state of almost hung over. I had some wine and a pretty strong cocktail and no real dinner last night. I’m not so bad that I have a headache or any other physical examples of alcohol poisoning (except I'm a little sweaty...no...clammy...yes, definately clammy), but I do keep finding myself staring off into space, thinking of absolutely nothing. Or I find myself focusing on the sound of the vent that's above my head. Or the hum of the nearby copy machine.

Sometimes my mind drifts off to warmer places (like my bed) and as my mind drifts, my eyes get heavy…blink more infrequently, and begin to drop closed. And then I'm suddenly jolted awake by the hacking cough of my co-worker and cube neighbor. And I'm back again at my desk. A little sweaty. But functionable. Even as I type this, I find I'm pausing and staring at the flashing cursor...blink...blink...blink...

Thank the goddess that there's only 10 minutes left of work.....hope I don't pass out on the BART on the ride home and miss my stop. That would really really suck.

Thank God for C-Span!

2005-01-26T10:17:00.000-08:00

I have been more than disillusioned by the corporate media and my government in regard to the approval of Condi as the Secretary of Fighting everyone on earth.

Then, last night, I saw Barbara Boxer give her speach to the senate and I thought, "Finally, someone is telling the truth!!" I wanted to stand up and cheer right there in my livingroom. She really showed how awful a job Condi has already done by giving FACTS. Barbara showed ALL OF CONDI's CONTRADICTIONS IN HER OWN WORDS. That was brilliant. Real facts can't be denied!! I finallly felt like I wasn't going crazy and that things have been pretty fucked up for awhile and someone else actually sees it. Somebody in the actual Senate. Refreshing. And when she pointed out all the LIES about the war. And about how Iraq wasn't even ON THE TERROR LIST and how there was no connection to Al Qaeda and GWB and his crew KNEW THIS before going in to Iraq. It really gave me pause. I knew a lot of those things already, but when they aren't covered in the media. Or only covered briefly, it's like it never happened. And GWB and his crew have been riding that for all it's worth.

I imagine it must have been very hard for Barbara to get up there and speak like that in front of the Senate. Kind of scary probably. I felt very proud to have a woman talking about compassion on the Senate floor. Unlike Condi. Who is setting a crappy example for women world wide. I hope that teachers take footage from that hearing and from Ms. Boxer's speach and use it to educate people. Young people especially. I feel like it should have been mandatory for all Americans to see that speach. To at least get all the facts laid out in front of them plainly so that they can make educated decisions about our government, the current presidential administration and about our lives in America.

Barbara set an awesome example for other Senators not to be afraid to stand up and say what's wrong. Challenge the status quo. Hold folks accountable for acting a fool.

Barbara Boxer, thanks for speaking up and shedding light on some of the darker corners of our current presidential administration.

It’s not everyday you see a really tall guy in a suit walking downtown eating a banana

2004-12-02T16:07:00.000-08:00

I was totally tired when I woke up this morning. I went through the usual morning ritual and got into the city a few minutes before I was supposed to be at the office. I stopped off for a peppermint hot chocolate (my reward to myself for coming in to the office at all) and headed in the direction of my office. As I was walking, I noticed this guy, he had to be about 6’ 4”, he’s walking with this other guy, talking and eating a banana. The banana was half eaten, peels flapped over his banana gripping hand and bounced up and down as he walked. I think I noticed this because usually, folks are walking down the street with a cup of coffee or a cigarette. Neither Coffee cups or Cigarettes bounce while you walk. So here's this guy, tall as I don't know what eating a banana, and I got to thinking what if everyone carrying and drinking coffee or smoking cigarettes on the way to the office carried and ate bananas instead. I started to think about how people’s behavior would be different in the morning if the stimulant was a banana or a piece of fruit as opposed to a cup of coffee or a cigarette. More smiles perhaps? More tolerance perhaps? More energy....perhaps?

So I'm hoping tomorrow you'll humor me ( and yourself). Next time your walking around in a crowd of downtown morning people, imagine them all carrying and enjoying bananas. If only for the humorous mental picture of people dressed fancy carrying bananas in the morning downtown.

(((Peace)))

How do I make Macaroni and Cheese again?

2004-11-25T07:52:00.000-08:00

So it's Thanksgiving....My favorite holiday. This year, my husband is in Philly and I'm dog sitting Cozmo. She's a pretty rad dog as far as dogs go. She talks (barks and mumbles) in her sleep. And communicates very well when awake.....except for right now I don't really know what she wants. I opened the door, put food in the dish, indulged her licking fetish and let her give me a few laps across the back of my hand. She keeps staring at me like I'm supposed to know what she wants, but I don't.

Anyway, today comes with a few traditions. Considering this is the only time of the year I am actually in kitchen, I often spend a lot of time making long distance calls for kitchenly advice. The annual call to my mom to find out how to make broccoli surprise. I already called my sister for the Mac and Cheese recipe. I'll be stuffing the celery with cream cheese and green olives while enjoying some warm spiked cider while I watch the Macy's day parade. A special time where I shout at the television and bitch about how the whole damn thing is so commercial and be annoyed by the new Christmas commercials they'll show as they cut off the Atlanta marching band.Then I'll haul all my snacks to Howfly island and enjoy a meal of fried turkey and hushpuppies, tasty cocktails and ultra lounging in front of the TIVO. Oh I can't wait!! I love thanksgiving!!

I have so much to give thanks for. I got married to my fabulous soulmate of ten years. Had a kick ass wedding and was surrounded by all my friends and family. The evil that is my upstairs neighbors, are moving out mid December!! No more hammertown!!!The leak has been repaired in my condo. A few of my friends had healthy babies this year. (Welcome Oscar, Jago, Allisa and Francesca...Oh yeah, and Robin's new babe whose name I don't know yet!) I graduated from massage school and have actual clients. Life isn't sucking right now, and I am giving thanks!!!

Well Cozmo is staring at me again......and I need to saute the sausage for the stuffed mushrooms... and I can't believe its almost 8:00 am and I haven't had my holiday cocktail yet....And the parade's going to start soon....

Happy Turkeyday everyone!!!!

(((peace)))

B-Girls Be Rockin On and On....

2004-11-12T09:36:00.000-08:00

Last night I was flicking channels during a commercial and ran into the Beastie Boys on Conan O'Brien w/the human beat box, Doug E. Fresh. Needless to say, their performance was FRESH!!! They are so cutting edge/old school at the same time. They talked to Conan after their performance and they looked just like they looked back in the day. Puffy coats, baseball caps, Adidas. They look exactly the same. Except with grayer hair.

I love the Beastie Boys. I saw them in San Francisco a couple of months ago and it was the best concert I've seen, hands down. I didn't have much hope going in. The most recent record, is good, but it's no Hello Nasty. I also hadn't seen them live since their first tour in 1987. (Where a giant penis emerged from the center of the stage during their fight for your right to party encore and Public Enemy opened up for them). I've seen "the bands you loved in high school" in concert and usually they suck out loud. But the Beasties did not disappoint. They did their rap thing, then busted out the instruments and 3 piece powder blue polyester suits, circa 1975 or so and jammed. Then rapped more. Then snuck off stage and appeared in the balcony to do Intergalactic (which was only 3 rows away from where we were watching the show!!!!) Then dedicated sabotage to George W. The show was totally high energy. Everyone there was psyched. They played every song you wanted to hear from all their albums, not just their current one. They had a sing a long of Paul Revere. They rocked the house. It was awesome.

It's refreshing to see them doing so well. They haven't sold out. Which is hard in the music business. I mean, have you seen Henry Rollins doing spots on VH-1? What the fuck is that? The Beasties are political, aren't afraid or ashamed to bring issues to the forefront. But still have a sense of humor. I just love them.

They prove that everything from the 80's wasn't total crap. Everybody get down!

The waiting, is the hardest part.

2004-11-08T10:24:00.000-08:00

So I’m waiting for the plumber and the general contractor to come and tell me what we’ve been telling the powers that be for more than three years now, that the walls need to be opened up upstairs in order to figure out what the fuck is going on with the leak. I called the plumber this morning to see if they could give me an actual time that they’d be showing up, but of course, no response from them. The last I heard was “sometime” between 9:30 and 10:30. It’s crazy how these guys really have you by the balls. (Contractors, Plumbers, cable guy, telephone repair, mechanic) Why is it impossible for them to just give you a time? Control, or lack thereof, has really been coming up for me in the past few weeks. It’s unfuckingbelievable the amount of bullshit and run around you get trying to get something done with a condo association…and a management company. Neither of which are living through the rain in their unit. But both “understand” what we must be going through. Well I believe the COA really is concerned, but I’m pretty positive the management company could give a shit either way. It’d be different if we were dealing with a few drips and drops here and there. But it’s not just a drip, it fucking rains inside my first floor condo, and it’s been raining in here for 3 years. Yeah, doesn’t make much fucking sense. Barrels full. But we’ve got to “go through the proper channels”, and get a “good bid”, and understand that “these things take time” and “we don’t have that much money”, and…blah, blah, blah fucking blah. So I’m waiting. My patience again being tested. And I know I’m not the only one in the world who has to deal with this fucking foolishness. Everyone everywhere passing the buck. No one is responsible for shit anymore.

Over the weekend, I was watching RV secrets. It’s on the travel channel, which I love to watch. Since I want nothing more than to get the fuck out of my condo and live where there are trees, grass and no one over my head hammering incessantly or running their fucking dogs. (I don’t hate dogs, just hate them running over my head in the morning my neighbors totally fucking suck, there’s sure to be a blog about them soon) anyway, I’m watching the travel channel and they’re showing these massive RV’s. Some of them a cross between a tour bus and motor home. It was funny because when I was watching it, I was thinking that the band should utilize these more. They rent a tour bus for every tour. And the bus has bunks, and a lounge, a toilet (for pee only), microwave and fridge. Sounds cool. But when I saw these RV’s, those guys are really missing out. Parts of the RV slide out for extra space. Are equipped with showers, and flat screen televisions. Even a little more like home.

There are these places that are luxury RV parks. Hot tubs, swimming pools, golf, hiking trails, beautiful scenery, gourmet dining. It’s wild. A whole other culture going on. If you and a bunch of friends all got RV’s, you could meet up at these places and have some fun. And if your neighbors suck, you can drive away from them and go to another place. I’ve really got to downsize my life; cuz this really seems like it could work for me. With the political climate the way it is, and me not being able to afford to move to Canada or any other good cool place, RV living is looking pretty fucking good. There are a ton of places that I’ve never been to that are RV friendly. I’d love to explore the desert more.

So yeah, I’m still waiting. No calls from anyone. I have all day though. So what’s the big fucking deal? I don’t need to make a living or anything like that. I’m not sure how well sarcasm comes across on the blog. But right now, I’m being pretty sarcastic. I’m getting my daily headache. Pretty psyched about that. It’s not one that would stop traffic, just a little annoying throbbing at my right temple. I’ve been drinking good mood tea, which has St. John’s Wort in it. I don’t know if it’s working or not, of if it’s just a distraction from being mostly annoyed. I called the plumber back and the lady said, “He’s on his way”. I called the contractor and he said “ on his way”. Who knows what the fuck that means?

Since I STILL feel this way...

2004-11-05T11:07:00.000-08:00

The last thing I’d say.

Under siege
I see that we
Are under siege
From the news we
Read to the food we
Eat genetically engineered
To feed our hunger
Under siege and
In a cage trying
To maintain my
Rage about this
Helpless feeling
I’m reelin and wishin
I could believe my
Government controlled
Media and news
Gives me the blues and I cry cuz
I don’t understand why
No one else is
Outraged by
This genetically engineered
Experience called the
American dream, I have a
Dream, pieces of a dream
Scattered across my consciousness
Memories of freedom in Fragments
And I’m nauseous from the spinning
And grinning and faking that
Things are all right, despite what
I see before my eyes and feel in my
gut. Under siege
And pushed to extremes, a society
Mourning the loss of a carefree
Lifestyle. Towers fell and rubble
Troubled the hearts of
The untouchable ones
as the dust & debris
Settles around me,
it’s hard to see, just
Who’s the enemy?
Is it Bush or Osama?
Is it Saddam or my Mama?
Is it big businesses merging?
Or activists emerging with
Their own political agenda
Sending generically democratic vibes
Through a crowd of over
150,000 people on Saturday
afternoon. And I feel
Oppressed and Under siege
pushed to the
Extreme, I am looking for my
courage
To speak my truth, Speak and
Know I am heard. My words,
My power,
Taken in and considered.
Looked for strength hidden in
history looking back in
Time to find courage in the
Faces of filmed nonviolent
Protesters of the 60’s, tryin
To get secrets of survival
From those faces faced with
Hoses and barking dogs
Bearing teeth hungry for
The blood of civil rights,
And still they’d fight.
Fast forward to January 18, 2003
Nare a dog in sight in these
Streets baring teeth and breaking
Flesh on the leg of the oppressed.
Perhaps we are no longer a threat
To the powers that be. See While
Covert actions and tactics, slap
greasy white hands
with hundred dollar back
room handshake deals
This government has
Unknowingly cultivated a poetic
Rebel, reveling in her truth.
That rebel is me. At this
Point, I believe I’ve got
nothing left to
Loose. So still a little scared
I choose to speak. As if
Today was the last day to
Say what I might without being
Deemed a terrorist. Aware that
There is power in
my words
power that might bring
Pain to my body, I admit
I haven’t come to terms with
The dogs, or the hoses or the
idea of being taken into
custody, and no one knowing
where I am. But I understand that
I must stand
and say now if never again
“I do not support your war Mr. President”
“No Blood for Oil!!”

Shanta M. © 2003

Spinning Wheels Gotta Go Round..and round...and round

2004-11-04T15:35:00.000-08:00

So here's my first post on my first blog ever. I'm at my office. I'm bored out of my fucking mind. Could there be a better time to create a blog? Finally, a place to bitch, moan, cuss and write random thoughts that swirl around my brain for all the "world" to see. And I've got PLENTY to say. I've avoided blogging up until now because I thought, "someone might find out it's me". So fucking what. We are going to hell in a handbasket, so I might as well speak right up while I still can.

Should I speak of the obvious? Was that a fucked up election or what? The results, although not surprising, still made me completely sick. I could hardly eat. Now you know it's bad when politics effect your food intake. My stomach still isn't exactly "right". I hope I get over it soon, I actually enjoy eating.

I got married recently to a bass player. We've been together more than ten years, but it was at the wedding that I really realized I'd married my mom. Which isn't too bad. My mom is bad ass. So is my husband for that matter. (and I'm not just saying that because we're married and all). By normal standards, I should have married "my dad", but since he was in absentia during my life, it was my mom I searched high and low to find. And she turned up in the form of a dude who tours with a rock band. Go figure.

My boss just came back, fuck, I guess I should look busy. Which is harder than it sounds.

(((Peace)))