Viva Oxnard. In 4 days. The quiet beach with the quiet waves and the wide open sunset-filled sky. My oldest brother, Scott, my oldest sister, Nikki, her husband F and my two famous little nephews I helped raise 4 years ago, within Mindsay. They're 8 & almost 6 now. It's remarkable.
It's indescribable, the chairs around the bonfire on the sand of California...the waves I used to dream about are as blue and as velvet under the sunlight as I imagined back on the farm at 12 years old. Extraordinarily, my Dad stays there. He's a part of the air, the movement of the ocean, he's the sparks flying up from the fire and the light in my brother's eyes. A small part of my heart naturally beams when I visit there. I like to push my feet in the sand, there; lean back and breath in the beach like a flawless indulgence, a sparkling presence. There is no question, I belong by the water. I come so alive there.
I came back East for love, after living in San Diego in 2004. I mistook a lover for what should have been a best friend and I let myself return to Virginia where I thought love was waiting for us there. I lost that friend but, nonetheless, Virginia is home, more than California will ever be, I have realized. I live in Maryland now, with Nathan, life's best gift so far
--I love it, but Virginia has the history that molded me into who I am so I couldn't possibly not call it home. I know its roads and its trails on my grandfather's farm in Hartwood, I know it better than I ever wanted to, truthfully.
Silly me. Plotting and plotting at 21 years old. I didn't know shit. Life just happened. All of a sudden I am the happiest I have ever, ever been in my life. I made so many plans, I made so many changes, but life has a stronger engine than me, it has its own direction. It's marvelous. I wouldn't dare hit the brakes. I just cruise.
I can't wait to see everyone when I land at LAX!!!
I love Nikki's smile. I can't wait to kiss my nephews
All the street lights were out and you could hear sirens from every direction. Apparently 270 was struck by a lot of debris because of the tornado in Montgomery County and it resulted in several car accidents.
I would now like to comment on intersections that have no power.
FYI - When an intersection is without power, please acknowledge that you must treat it as a four-way stop.
Simple enough, no? This does not mean that it is okay to drink a fifth of whiskey with your underwear tied around your head, squawking inside your car that it's your turn now, it's your turn damn it!! and all of sudden believing that the world in fact does revolve around you...and only you.
*
For your next vacation, please consider the lovely town of Germantown. You and your family can witness the daily disfunctions of withered up peabrains that think they are the mega-starlets of the universe and everyone else is just simply...in their way. And it doesn't cost a dime
So, again I would like to touch on the magnificence of etiquette when operating a vehicle in inclement weather--please don't be a ninny.
Borrow Me
4/19/06
It's a fine air of hatred
when you taste my skin
I scramble
to find the beauty
in the piercing suggestion
that you will never
claim the time
that you will never
love me.
You divide my humor
and you multiply impulse
by an earthquake
that threatens the change
in our train of thought that strays from
our usual creamy path of independence,
that one direction I won't give up but will slow down for...
The greatest thing about wondering
is that it never really has to happen, so borrow me,
lend my intricate feelings to
your sorrow your angst your escape...
stamp a date on me in which I expire.
borrow me, rent me, extend me,
as I befall my heart
that silly, caged thing
upon a spine of innocence and unanswered glory.
I may never be kept
I might always be borrowed,
in which you might never be quenched.
It's not so much my loss but your thirst.
It's not so much my answer but your question.
Next time borrow an excuse
instead of me.
Borrow Me
4/19/06
It's a fine air of hatred
when you taste my skin
I scramble
to find the beauty
in the piercing suggestion
that you will never
claim the time
that you will never
love me.
You divide my humor
and you multiply impulse
by an earthquake
that threatens the change
in our train of thought that strays from
our usual creamy path of independence,
that one direction I won't give up but will slow down for...
The greatest thing about wondering
is that it never really has to happen, so borrow me,
lend my intricate feelings to
your sorrow your angst your escape...
stamp a date on me in which I expire.
borrow me, rent me, extend me,
as I befall my heart
that silly, caged thing
upon a spine of innocence and unanswered glory.
I may never be kept
I might always be borrowed,
in which you might never be quenched.
It's not so much my loss but your thirst.
It's not so much my answer but your question.
Next time borrow an excuse
instead of me.
To be perfect is still a few scratches of paint short of a piece of art.
...I like to stretch out in my cream sheets and be far from guilty for staying in them past noon...Tubbs stretching, laying against my legs, Nathan and I discussing an extravagant breakfast, meanwhile, my sleepy fingers fumble with the remote as I turn the TV to the Food Network and sleepily hum my way back to sleep atop my two pillows. The two greatest loves of my life in bed right there with me....
An inch of toothpaste and a few breezes of morning later, I heat up the griddle and crack the eggs into a skillet. Nathan's hands wrap around my hips and love is just a perfect moment, while we stand still against each other and have a morning together
I love the weekends at home.
My cousin Kristen and I drive down to Fredericksburg VA to have celebrate it with our family at our Nana's house...It started out beautifully civilized and we all laughed as we played catch-up.
Kristen left, to head out for her vacation at the beach. She left me. With all of them.
My great Aunt Alma, a good, sweet Christian woman, had one bloody mary too many and locked herself in the bathroom praying to God to forgive her and refused to come out for the majority of the dish-washing scenario...
My aunt and her partner get in a fight over who's cleaning up more and who's not plus Darlene (her partner) was being reprimanded for making the bloody marys. They cry.
My mom says, amidst the yelling and the crying, "Guys, we just got Nana & Larry to stop fighting (he died the year before), now can't we just get along?"
So that sent Nana to the laundry room weeping, in which my mother in turned yelled at me for sitting bewildered at the dining room table to go console her and apologize for what I did.... Yeah.
So...last year, in 07 it is obvious to assume that I did not attend that year's Mother's Day celebration and secretly took my mom out to a quiet dinner instead.
This year, folks, I am braving it out. I was tricked, but I'm still going. I fell for it, I must pay for it.
If I do not return Sunday evening to tell you either good news or bad news, please assume that I passed on.
On a lighter note, I got my mom a great present
And me 2 bottles of Reisling because that's just the way it has to be sometimes.
Men. ...You are silly characters, but I have to give it to you all. You've defined me throughout life more than I'd ever begin to want to admit.
The two I love so tremendously are pictured above. They've taken me miles and miles away from what I used to be. Responsibility I can thank Tubbs for, safety I can thank Nathan for. It was a foreign lifestyle 3 years ago. I still don't believe it sometimes, when I'm throwing Bounce in the dryer, or mashing potatoes, or just watching Nathan throw all the couch pillows on the floor so that the 3 of us can cuddle and watch TV together on it (somehow we all fit).

Look at my baby. Tubbs.
11 years old.
Playful, stubborn, my shadow at home and the best breed of dog that ever constantly kept me entertained and smitten.
Before I leave for work each morning, I kiss Nathan goodbye and then I kiss the top of Tubbs' head.
This morning (Friday morning) I kept trying to kiss Tubbs goodbye but he was sprawled out on his back on my side of the bed (he calls dibs on it while I take a shower) and he was stretching his legs up in the air, grunting and wheezing, his toes pointed like a ballerina...Bulldogs are by far the best dogs I've ever come by. He is my 62-lb English muffin

I fought rush hour and went down to Virginia today to Ashburn. My Nana was visiting the new addition, Kristen's older sister Jessica has a 6-week-old newborn named Jacob. They came for dinner to my aunt's house as well. They live right down the road. We were all in a baby fog.
Jacob is incredibly enlightening. Babies just do that kind of thing, I guess. My youngest cousin, Katelyn is 13. It's bizarre for me. I remember living with them when she was just 3. At thirteen I was in rehab two different times that year and not even for drugs. Now that the sun is out longer, it was 7:00 and she was begging my aunt to let her play soccer with her friends and she swore she'd be home by 8pm to do her homework. It was so foreign to me.
I laid back on the couch watching them negotiate work with play. It was normal and that felt right.
The conversation was so simple and perfect. I felt a pang of hurt, unexpectedly...10 years ago Aunt Sonya was having that same synonymous debate with me--I was 15 and had just freshly left home, my mother, and all familiarities of everyday life. She called the shots and her judgment was beyond more sensible than mine ever could have been at that age. Parenting has always seemed tremendously artful and lucky to me.
My eyes and ears were cautious but thirsty, I wanted to observe both ends; structurally, innocently and rationally. I looked over at little Jacob and thought that soon, we'd be all gathering in the dining room next March, celebrating his 1st birthday... Jessica and Robbie would be doing that in ten more years, with Jacob.
It's crazy. Time just goes...We walk and time runs.
I hold a thousand memories that crawl in remembrance, it repeats still, years after, and time just keeps turning on lights a few steps before us.
CAPS!!!!!
YESSS!!!!
Nathan and I are 19 rows back. Nathan has Backstrom's #19 jersey...
I of course have #87 Donald Brashear.
If we beat the (Filthydelphia Divers) we shall move on to the next series for the Stanley Cup. For those of you that don't follow hockey, this is the most fragrantly victorious Cinderella story...ever?
Wear red tomorrow
July 4th
Duncan
June 25th
Duncan
June 23rd
rockhockermom
June 8th
Duncan
June 5th
drunknphilosphr
rockhockermom
June 4th
silvara7
hauntedwhisper
drunknphilosphr
May 31st
sugarspellitout
May 26th
Duncan
May 25th
Duncan
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