I'm going home.
I'm going to Texas. While I live in Seattle, I have Texas in my bones. It resides in my being.
I am proud to be a Texan.
Now don't get me wrong..... I love Seattle. I chose to live here many moons ago.
But the Lone Star State will always have my heart.
I'm going to attend a dear friends Breast Cancer Charity Volleyball Tournament. His name is Chris Bailey and he is one of the kindest most generous humans I have ever known.
I knew him when he was a punk ass bitch drunk mutha fucka. I know him now as a husband and father and friend that donates and incredible amount of money, food and time, giving to those who have nothing. His heart is Texas size. If you ever get to meet him you should consider yourself lucky!!!!
With this trip I plan to see family and friends that I haven't seen in a long time. I plan to tune up my accent while I am there too. Watch out ya'll!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
See you on the flip side!
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
Saturday, May 30, 2015
Empty Victory
I am catering a wedding this weekend.
My first really big job.
I am scared out my mind. I take comfort in the rhythm of chopping vegetables. The smell of my kitchen. The music playing in the background.
It's quiet in my house and I have lots of thinking time.
I think about how I made it to this point. This point of turning a passion into a business.
At the time I decided to pursue this dream, I had someone in my life that supported me. In every way, He told me we could do anything together and I believed him. I needed to believe him in order to have the courage to do this.
But he stopped believing.
In me.
In us.
While I am learning to live with this, I must still keep going after this dream I have of cooking for people. If I don't I will always wonder....what if.
So today is an empty victory. He is not by my side to smooth over by brow. He is not here to tell me me to stop my whining and DO IT.
It feels lonely not being able to tell him that I am excited and nervous.
It feels empty.
It feels like a victory.
My first really big job.
I am scared out my mind. I take comfort in the rhythm of chopping vegetables. The smell of my kitchen. The music playing in the background.
It's quiet in my house and I have lots of thinking time.
I think about how I made it to this point. This point of turning a passion into a business.
At the time I decided to pursue this dream, I had someone in my life that supported me. In every way, He told me we could do anything together and I believed him. I needed to believe him in order to have the courage to do this.
But he stopped believing.
In me.
In us.
While I am learning to live with this, I must still keep going after this dream I have of cooking for people. If I don't I will always wonder....what if.
So today is an empty victory. He is not by my side to smooth over by brow. He is not here to tell me me to stop my whining and DO IT.
It feels lonely not being able to tell him that I am excited and nervous.
It feels empty.
It feels like a victory.
Saturday, May 16, 2015
Hold Your Tongue
The Canonization
For God's sake hold your tongue, and let me love,
Or chide my palsy, or my gout,
My five gray hairs, or ruined fortune flout,
With wealth your state, your mind with arts improve,
Take you a course, get you a place,
Observe his honor, or his grace,
Or the king's real, or his stampèd face
Contemplate; what you will, approve,
So you will let me love.
Alas, alas, who's injured by my love?
What merchant's ships have my sighs drowned?
Who says my tears have overflowed his ground?
When did my colds a forward spring remove?
When did the heats which my veins fill
Add one more to the plaguy bill?
Soldiers find wars, and lawyers find out still
Litigious men, which quarrels move,
Though she and I do love.
Call us what you will, we are made such by love;
Call her one, me another fly,
We're tapers too, and at our own cost die,
And we in us find the eagle and the dove.
The phœnix riddle hath more wit
By us; we two being one, are it.
So, to one neutral thing both sexes fit.
We die and rise the same, and prove
Mysterious by this love.
We can die by it, if not live by love,
And if unfit for tombs and hearse
Our legend be, it will be fit for verse;
And if no piece of chronicle we prove,
We'll build in sonnets pretty rooms;
As well a well-wrought urn becomes
The greatest ashes, as half-acre tombs,
And by these hymns, all shall approve
Us canonized for Love.
And thus invoke us: "You, whom reverend love
Made one another's hermitage;
You, to whom love was peace, that now is rage;
Who did the whole world's soul contract, and drove
Into the glasses of your eyes
(So made such mirrors, and such spies,
That they did all to you epitomize)
Countries, towns, courts: beg from above
A pattern of your love!"
Unlovable
I had this thought today.
I am not sure if it comforted me or terrified me.
I think I am unlovable,
I take comfort in this because it allows me to stop ever looking and hoping.
I am terrified because it really might be true.
I might not be worthy of love.
I don't say this so someone will say, OH!! but you are! I say this because my personal history has shown I might not be,
I felt truly loved ONE time. And he too is gone.
The father of my children cares for me. Of course he does. He cares for my well being. But I never really felt he was in love with me.
My children love me. I know this.
My father, no so much.
My mother, only to restore all the shit she pulled when I was a kid.
Men see me as fuckable, until the tit truth comes out. Then I am a freak show the want to see naked.
So this thought, that started in the back of my head as a whisper is now screaming at me, and I can't make it stop.
make.
it.
stop.
I am not sure if it comforted me or terrified me.
I think I am unlovable,
I take comfort in this because it allows me to stop ever looking and hoping.
I am terrified because it really might be true.
I might not be worthy of love.
I don't say this so someone will say, OH!! but you are! I say this because my personal history has shown I might not be,
I felt truly loved ONE time. And he too is gone.
The father of my children cares for me. Of course he does. He cares for my well being. But I never really felt he was in love with me.
My children love me. I know this.
My father, no so much.
My mother, only to restore all the shit she pulled when I was a kid.
Men see me as fuckable, until the tit truth comes out. Then I am a freak show the want to see naked.
So this thought, that started in the back of my head as a whisper is now screaming at me, and I can't make it stop.
make.
it.
stop.
Saturday, November 22, 2014
Need
I think I need to blog. I think if I don't get this out of me I will explode.
I have a need. Blogging is my release.
Too much has been going on. The rocks in my head keep tumbling around.
And now I start to type and my mind has gone blank. Oh dear reader are you there? Do you read me? Is this thing on?????
PTFO
I have a need. Blogging is my release.
Too much has been going on. The rocks in my head keep tumbling around.
And now I start to type and my mind has gone blank. Oh dear reader are you there? Do you read me? Is this thing on?????
PTFO
Monday, May 26, 2014
Puttin this on blast
Such beauty in this world. Only to be met at times with such ugliness.
I have not blogged in a long time. Life sometimes gets in the way of blogging about life.
I have someone whom I keep at the outskirts of my life who is acting really ugly. I am not sure what happened to this person in their life that fills them up with hatred. This person has a very sad existence.
This person hates me. With such passion.
This person says, and I quote, I wish that bitch was dead. He is refering to this bitch right here. Me.
As if he deserves to be on this planet more than I do. That my children deserve to be motherless. That my step childen deserve to see another woman die. Was it not enough to see their own mother die?
That my husband should bury another wife because my being on this planet angers this person so much he would rather me dead.
Sad. Just ever so sad.
This person goes around my social peers and spews his hatred. He doesn't care what gets back to our kids. His agenda is way more important that little ears hearing what he says.
This is his religion. His opinions are gospel. His hate is the doctrine he follows and believes everyone should too.
I am not he first to be his target. No no no. I am in the line up of what's wrong with the world.
In his path of destruction he is taking innocent people with him.
So I say, peace be with you sir. You are knocking on the door of karma and she is not kind sometimes. What you put out here comes back to you ten fold...good luck with that.
PTFO
I have not blogged in a long time. Life sometimes gets in the way of blogging about life.
I have someone whom I keep at the outskirts of my life who is acting really ugly. I am not sure what happened to this person in their life that fills them up with hatred. This person has a very sad existence.
This person hates me. With such passion.
This person says, and I quote, I wish that bitch was dead. He is refering to this bitch right here. Me.
As if he deserves to be on this planet more than I do. That my children deserve to be motherless. That my step childen deserve to see another woman die. Was it not enough to see their own mother die?
That my husband should bury another wife because my being on this planet angers this person so much he would rather me dead.
Sad. Just ever so sad.
This person goes around my social peers and spews his hatred. He doesn't care what gets back to our kids. His agenda is way more important that little ears hearing what he says.
This is his religion. His opinions are gospel. His hate is the doctrine he follows and believes everyone should too.
I am not he first to be his target. No no no. I am in the line up of what's wrong with the world.
In his path of destruction he is taking innocent people with him.
So I say, peace be with you sir. You are knocking on the door of karma and she is not kind sometimes. What you put out here comes back to you ten fold...good luck with that.
PTFO
Friday, January 17, 2014
Blink of an Eye
Life changes. I have no words right now. No one deserves such pain. Such heartache.
Life is so short. So very short.
Am I wasting it????
Please help if you can.
http://www.gofundme.com/695ico
or
https://fundrazr.com/campaigns/6gCDf/ab/82eey6?psid=bfb8c53c8a4847b4bba56065557e907e
Life is so short. So very short.
Am I wasting it????
Please help if you can.
http://www.gofundme.com/695ico
or
https://fundrazr.com/campaigns/6gCDf/ab/82eey6?psid=bfb8c53c8a4847b4bba56065557e907e
Monday, September 23, 2013
At Dusk
THERE AT DUSK I FOUND YOU~
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
There at dusk I found you, walking and weeping
Upon the broken flags,
Where at dusk the dumb white nicotine awakes and utters her
fragrance
In a garden sleeping.
Looking askance you said:
Love is dead.
Under our eyes without warning softly the summer afternoon
let fall
The rose upon the wall,
And it lay there splintered.
Terribly then into my heart the forgotten anguish entered.
I saw the dark stone on the smallest finger of your hand,
And the clean cuff above.
No more, no more the dark stone on the smallest finger
Of your brown and naked arm,
Lifting my body in love!
Worse than dead is he of the wounded wing,
Who walks between us, weeping upon the cold flags,
Bleeding and weeping, dragging his broken wing.
He has gathered the rose into his hand and chafed her with his
breath.
But the rose is quiet and pale. She has forgotten us all.
Even spring.
Even death.
As for me, I have forgotten nothing,-nor shall I ever forget-
But this one thing:
I have forgotten which of us it was
That hurt his wing.
I only know his limping flight above us in the blue air
Toward the sunset cloud
Is more than I can bear.
You, you there,
Stiff-necked and angry, holding up your head so proud,
Have you not seen how pitiful lame he flies, and none to befriend
him?
Speak! Are you blind? Are you dead?
Shall we call him back? Shall we mend him?
Not my usual....but I liked it the first time i read it on another blog.
PTFO
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
There at dusk I found you, walking and weeping
Upon the broken flags,
Where at dusk the dumb white nicotine awakes and utters her
fragrance
In a garden sleeping.
Looking askance you said:
Love is dead.
Under our eyes without warning softly the summer afternoon
let fall
The rose upon the wall,
And it lay there splintered.
Terribly then into my heart the forgotten anguish entered.
I saw the dark stone on the smallest finger of your hand,
And the clean cuff above.
No more, no more the dark stone on the smallest finger
Of your brown and naked arm,
Lifting my body in love!
Worse than dead is he of the wounded wing,
Who walks between us, weeping upon the cold flags,
Bleeding and weeping, dragging his broken wing.
He has gathered the rose into his hand and chafed her with his
breath.
But the rose is quiet and pale. She has forgotten us all.
Even spring.
Even death.
As for me, I have forgotten nothing,-nor shall I ever forget-
But this one thing:
I have forgotten which of us it was
That hurt his wing.
I only know his limping flight above us in the blue air
Toward the sunset cloud
Is more than I can bear.
You, you there,
Stiff-necked and angry, holding up your head so proud,
Have you not seen how pitiful lame he flies, and none to befriend
him?
Speak! Are you blind? Are you dead?
Shall we call him back? Shall we mend him?
Not my usual....but I liked it the first time i read it on another blog.
PTFO
Sunday, July 14, 2013
For My Favorite 11 yr old!
http://smilebox.com/playBlog/4d7a637a4d6a63314d7a513d0d0a&blogview=true
I love you Elliot, more than air!!!!!!!!!!!!
oxoxoxo
Mommy
I love you Elliot, more than air!!!!!!!!!!!!
oxoxoxo
Mommy
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
A Survivors Response to Angelina Jolie
I cannot listen to the media anymore talk about Angelina Jolie's choice for a double mastectomy.
I am not unsympathetic to her fear. I know that fear. My issue is this:
She has all the money in the world to be completely out of commission while her home, children and family went on in working order.She has enough money to not argue with doctors and insurance companies to have a realistic reason to use insurance monies.
I live in a woman's house that was killed by breast cancer. I have had breast cancer twice. When you are a slave to the insurance companies you are on the slow track to anything you used to have as a normal life.
Again, I understand her reason and her fear. But for every media outlet to act like her coming out with this information is such an act of bravery, is eye rolling to me at the least.
Most insurance companies would say what she did was elective. She was asymptomatic I read about her mother, I read about her chances. Average Americans like myself struggle for healthcare. We struggle after lifetimes caps on treatment and cost. We have fundraisers. We gather up meal trains and babysitting. Things that when you have the sort of time and money that this celebrity has, is not a factor.
Again I get her reasons and fears.
All of us want to see our children grow up. All of us want to hold our grandchildren. All of us would LOVE to get this all done in 9 weeks (or so) time. All of us would love to have beautiful new breast. But at certain Stages of cancer you do not get that choice. Most of us have to wait until we get through chemo, while our chest skin tightens and scar tissue is created. Then we begin the reconstruction surgery that take away even more time from our families and jobs. That's just not reality for the average American diagnosed with Breast Cancer to have the experience Angelia Jolie had.
We worry about if our employers will give us the time off and hopefully paid. We worry that if we do get to go back to work out job will be waiting for us. We worry about how our children will get to school or how they will be taken care of during an entire day filled with chemo and doctor appointments. We try not to ask our spouse to take off too much time. We have to keep some kind of insurance somehow We have to worry of changes in insurance and now having pre existing conditions.
Again I get her reasons and fears.
I really do.
Insurance and the highest of care is not for the poor or middle class.
I cannot blame celebrities for for their wealth That would be silly. I do blame the media for glorifying the choice of a person in this world for coming out with her situation, while millions of people cannot afford something as simple as insurance for a check up on a lump the found.
PTFO
I am not unsympathetic to her fear. I know that fear. My issue is this:
She has all the money in the world to be completely out of commission while her home, children and family went on in working order.She has enough money to not argue with doctors and insurance companies to have a realistic reason to use insurance monies.
I live in a woman's house that was killed by breast cancer. I have had breast cancer twice. When you are a slave to the insurance companies you are on the slow track to anything you used to have as a normal life.
Again, I understand her reason and her fear. But for every media outlet to act like her coming out with this information is such an act of bravery, is eye rolling to me at the least.
Most insurance companies would say what she did was elective. She was asymptomatic I read about her mother, I read about her chances. Average Americans like myself struggle for healthcare. We struggle after lifetimes caps on treatment and cost. We have fundraisers. We gather up meal trains and babysitting. Things that when you have the sort of time and money that this celebrity has, is not a factor.
Again I get her reasons and fears.
All of us want to see our children grow up. All of us want to hold our grandchildren. All of us would LOVE to get this all done in 9 weeks (or so) time. All of us would love to have beautiful new breast. But at certain Stages of cancer you do not get that choice. Most of us have to wait until we get through chemo, while our chest skin tightens and scar tissue is created. Then we begin the reconstruction surgery that take away even more time from our families and jobs. That's just not reality for the average American diagnosed with Breast Cancer to have the experience Angelia Jolie had.
We worry about if our employers will give us the time off and hopefully paid. We worry that if we do get to go back to work out job will be waiting for us. We worry about how our children will get to school or how they will be taken care of during an entire day filled with chemo and doctor appointments. We try not to ask our spouse to take off too much time. We have to keep some kind of insurance somehow We have to worry of changes in insurance and now having pre existing conditions.
Again I get her reasons and fears.
I really do.
Insurance and the highest of care is not for the poor or middle class.
I cannot blame celebrities for for their wealth That would be silly. I do blame the media for glorifying the choice of a person in this world for coming out with her situation, while millions of people cannot afford something as simple as insurance for a check up on a lump the found.
PTFO
Monday, April 15, 2013
The Seconds
Two more children lost their mother recently.
All I can think is....
Those babies
Those babies
Those babies
I horrifically step into her shoes. I think of last thoughts and wishes and dreams and love for those 2 humans that grew inside of her. Every hair on their sweet heads. Every breath they take. Every beat of their broken hearts, grew inside of her at a time that cancer was only a disease she read about that happened to to other people.
Then it happen to her and she kicked, fought, scratched, and screamed her way to have every second she could with those 2 babies. Those seconds are now over.
All I can think is....
FUCK YOU CANCER
FUCK YOU
FUCK YOU
FUCK YOU
PTFO
All I can think is....
Those babies
Those babies
Those babies
I horrifically step into her shoes. I think of last thoughts and wishes and dreams and love for those 2 humans that grew inside of her. Every hair on their sweet heads. Every breath they take. Every beat of their broken hearts, grew inside of her at a time that cancer was only a disease she read about that happened to to other people.
Then it happen to her and she kicked, fought, scratched, and screamed her way to have every second she could with those 2 babies. Those seconds are now over.
All I can think is....
FUCK YOU CANCER
FUCK YOU
FUCK YOU
FUCK YOU
PTFO
Friday, March 08, 2013
In Sickness and in Health
i have been really sick this week. i havent been this sick in a really long time. it honestley scares the shit out of me. i dont like to be ill. i dont like to go to the doctor. i have had enough of all that in my life.
i will say this, through me fever induced haze i have been introspective. through my larengitious induced throat i have been silent. both issues have taken me aback and caused myself to do a little thinking time under the covers. and with spring being on our heels, getting well feels like coming out of a cocoon.
i would absolutely say that this was the winter of my discontent. it started in the fall and rolled over me like a steamroller. and i absolutely take credit for the better half of it. i wrote blogs how i wasnt taking any more shit, mostly to convince myself that i wasnt. did you believe me? if so, i am quite a convincing writer...if not, i really didnt believe me either. hows that for truth in publishing?
getting back on track...
seriously, as the sun starts to shine more, and i hear the birds sing, i think of their tweets as a battle cry of new beginnings. eggs will be laid. bulbs will burst out of the dirt the were planted months ago. my voice is coming back figuratively and literally.
consider yourself warned
ptfo
Saturday, February 02, 2013
Things Coming Across My Wire...
A few things I have been chewing on lately:
Persons who behave like cunts are always surprised when they are treated like cunts.
Tell yourself fewer lies.
A tiger doesn't loose sleep over the opinion of sheep.
Fashion is expected to change. People not so much.
Don't agree with yourself all the fucking time.
You tear me a part.
Lies are lovely. Truth is mostly a cunt.
Porn is more honest than religion.
Neither your heart or your balls should be easily broken.
Please do me the ultimate kindness of minding your own damn business.
Pain is fuel.
Having one doesn't entitle you to act like one.
Don't ask me what I think of you because I don't.
Haters are people scared of their own emptiness.
Thank you Shahir Zag
PTFO
Persons who behave like cunts are always surprised when they are treated like cunts.
Tell yourself fewer lies.
A tiger doesn't loose sleep over the opinion of sheep.
Fashion is expected to change. People not so much.
Don't agree with yourself all the fucking time.
You tear me a part.
Lies are lovely. Truth is mostly a cunt.
Porn is more honest than religion.
Neither your heart or your balls should be easily broken.
Please do me the ultimate kindness of minding your own damn business.
Pain is fuel.
Having one doesn't entitle you to act like one.
Don't ask me what I think of you because I don't.
Haters are people scared of their own emptiness.
Thank you Shahir Zag
PTFO
Monday, January 21, 2013
I Had a Dream
Happy MLK Day.
But that is not what this blog is about.
I had a dream.....
This weekend would have been her 40th bday. FORTY. 40. I was at the last bday she celebrated, here on Earth. It was her 35th.
And I think because I thought about her all weekend, she came to me in my dreams last night.
We hugged. Embraced. I long hug. The kind you give to a long lost friend. She is my long lost friend. She looked so healthy and beautiful. She had a glow.
Imissyouimissyouimissyouimissyou.
Come back soon to my dreams. It's been way too long.
Happy Birthday Day.
I love you.
Peace Out
But that is not what this blog is about.
I had a dream.....
This weekend would have been her 40th bday. FORTY. 40. I was at the last bday she celebrated, here on Earth. It was her 35th.
And I think because I thought about her all weekend, she came to me in my dreams last night.
We hugged. Embraced. I long hug. The kind you give to a long lost friend. She is my long lost friend. She looked so healthy and beautiful. She had a glow.
Imissyouimissyouimissyouimissyou.
Come back soon to my dreams. It's been way too long.
Happy Birthday Day.
I love you.
Peace Out
Sunday, December 30, 2012
She's Like a Rainbow
She comes in colors ev'rywhere;
She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
everywhere
She comes in colors
She comes in colors ev'rywhere;
She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
Have you seen her dressed in blue?
See the sky in front of you
And her face is like a sail
Speck of white so fair and pale
Have you seen a lady fairer?
She comes in colors ev'rywhere;
She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
everywhere
She comes in colors
Have you seen her all in gold?
Like a queen in days of old
She shoots colors all around
Like a sunset going down
Have you seen a lady fairer?
She comes in colors ev'rywhere;
She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
everywhere
She comes in colors
She comes in colors ev'rywhere;
She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
Have you seen her dressed in blue?
See the sky in front of you
And her face is like a sail
Speck of white so fair and pale
Have you seen a lady fairer?
She comes in colors ev'rywhere;
She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
everywhere
She comes in colors
Have you seen her all in gold?
Like a queen in days of old
She shoots colors all around
Like a sunset going down
Have you seen a lady fairer?
She comes in colors ev'rywhere;
She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
She's like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
I'm Gunna Have to Quit You
Dear Facebook,
You are an asshole. No really...you are.
You used to be so fun and make me feel so liked and connected.
But honestly, these days, I feel nothing other than contempt for you and all the things that I see I am left out of, uninvited to, never invited to, or simply ignored.
You, dear FB, are the ultimate mean girls club. The games, the politics, the religious crap...it's wearing me down.
To be honest I've met another time suck that doesn't make me feel like shit every time I dare to sneak a peek. It's called pinterest. So there. I have another way to waste time!
Peace the Fuck Out
You are an asshole. No really...you are.
You used to be so fun and make me feel so liked and connected.
But honestly, these days, I feel nothing other than contempt for you and all the things that I see I am left out of, uninvited to, never invited to, or simply ignored.
You, dear FB, are the ultimate mean girls club. The games, the politics, the religious crap...it's wearing me down.
To be honest I've met another time suck that doesn't make me feel like shit every time I dare to sneak a peek. It's called pinterest. So there. I have another way to waste time!
Peace the Fuck Out
Thursday, December 06, 2012
The Ghost of Christmas Past
Christmas 2006. I was in the middle of chemo for my second round of breast cancer. I was weak and frail. I couldn't travel for the holidays. So I called my family and asked them to come to me. And being my family they came.
It was a time in my life that I will never forget. Pictured here are Uncle Steve and Cousin Travis. Me with no wig and those two jokers...well look at them!
Thank you for that moment captured forever.
I love ya'll
Maria
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Tell Your Tits to Stop Looking at My Eyes
Boobs. Tits. Hooters. Milk Jugs.
WHATEVAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Call them what you may. I used to have them. Now I don't. I had them for many years. Then for reasons beyond my control I cut them off. Then for reasons within my control I chose not to replace them.
I have had many people ask me why. Why not get new perfect round plump titties? This blog will help you understand.
Many of you who read this blog have never known the me who had boobs. You may only know me virtually so of course you don't know what they where like. You may only know me post surgery so you only know the "BONE YARD". You may know me with boobs and now...boobless.
Let me explain...
I liked my boobs. They were useful, even before breast feeding. They were perky and round. They stood up perfectly to gravity. They were an object of desire. They fed my children.
THEY TRIED TO KILL ME
You have breast cancer....
what a shitty thing to hear.
That will bring it all home to you. That will sober you up. That will make you see what's important.
I have done this rodeo TWICE.
Twice I have hacked away at my body. And one may ask....why don't you get new ones. I say, because I don't think the third time will be a charm.
I never took much stock in tits. They are like golden handcuffs. Everyone thinks they are soooo awesome. One may think they are the visualization of sex. If you have them you are worthy of sexual worship. If you don't, where do you belong in the world as a woman? A woman that is desired.
KA-FUCKING-POW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
no boobs= no desire???????????????????????????????
really? Have I become half woman? Have I become only half desirable?
Because let's be real, I can walk this earth with my foobs (fake boobs) on and none of you would know the diff.. But because I am bluntly honest, and for the most part choose not to wear them, AND choose to tell my story, I am seen as only half of what I am?
Whoa
Whoa
Let's rethink sexuality. Let's think about being human.
Let's think of the scores of women who have died. The maimed. The scarred.
I can tell you that from where I stand, I choose to live breastless. I choose to save myself, so how dare anyone want me only if I have boobs...man made or natural. Its an insult. My children want their mother alive. They don't care about the status of my body. I am sure that my husbands daughters would give ANYTHING to have their mother at their side. I am positive that my husband loved his first wife although she only had one breast, I am sure he still desired her. I know he would of done ANYTHING to keep her from dying. I know that he completely accepts me as an amputee.
We all make choices. I am not here to judge them. But perhaps in some very very small tiny way, I am in YOUR life, to make you see that sometimes, if you peek behind the curtain, you will see that what you may see as a -duh i would get me some store bought titties- moment, is not so easy. Maybe you will see that one cannot judge a book by its cover or bra size.
Maybe you will see that I am whole even as not whole.
Maybe you will see I didn't choose this.
Maybe you will see others didn't choose to die.
Maybe you will see that all I want is to hold my grandchildren,
Maybe you will see my pain.
Maybe you will see that decisions are not black and white.
Maybe you will love me unconditionally.
Peace Out
WHATEVAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Call them what you may. I used to have them. Now I don't. I had them for many years. Then for reasons beyond my control I cut them off. Then for reasons within my control I chose not to replace them.
I have had many people ask me why. Why not get new perfect round plump titties? This blog will help you understand.
Many of you who read this blog have never known the me who had boobs. You may only know me virtually so of course you don't know what they where like. You may only know me post surgery so you only know the "BONE YARD". You may know me with boobs and now...boobless.
Let me explain...
I liked my boobs. They were useful, even before breast feeding. They were perky and round. They stood up perfectly to gravity. They were an object of desire. They fed my children.
THEY TRIED TO KILL ME
You have breast cancer....
what a shitty thing to hear.
That will bring it all home to you. That will sober you up. That will make you see what's important.
I have done this rodeo TWICE.
Twice I have hacked away at my body. And one may ask....why don't you get new ones. I say, because I don't think the third time will be a charm.
I never took much stock in tits. They are like golden handcuffs. Everyone thinks they are soooo awesome. One may think they are the visualization of sex. If you have them you are worthy of sexual worship. If you don't, where do you belong in the world as a woman? A woman that is desired.
KA-FUCKING-POW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
no boobs= no desire???????????????????????????????
really? Have I become half woman? Have I become only half desirable?
Because let's be real, I can walk this earth with my foobs (fake boobs) on and none of you would know the diff.. But because I am bluntly honest, and for the most part choose not to wear them, AND choose to tell my story, I am seen as only half of what I am?
Whoa
Whoa
Let's rethink sexuality. Let's think about being human.
Let's think of the scores of women who have died. The maimed. The scarred.
I can tell you that from where I stand, I choose to live breastless. I choose to save myself, so how dare anyone want me only if I have boobs...man made or natural. Its an insult. My children want their mother alive. They don't care about the status of my body. I am sure that my husbands daughters would give ANYTHING to have their mother at their side. I am positive that my husband loved his first wife although she only had one breast, I am sure he still desired her. I know he would of done ANYTHING to keep her from dying. I know that he completely accepts me as an amputee.
We all make choices. I am not here to judge them. But perhaps in some very very small tiny way, I am in YOUR life, to make you see that sometimes, if you peek behind the curtain, you will see that what you may see as a -duh i would get me some store bought titties- moment, is not so easy. Maybe you will see that one cannot judge a book by its cover or bra size.
Maybe you will see that I am whole even as not whole.
Maybe you will see I didn't choose this.
Maybe you will see others didn't choose to die.
Maybe you will see that all I want is to hold my grandchildren,
Maybe you will see my pain.
Maybe you will see that decisions are not black and white.
Maybe you will love me unconditionally.
Peace Out
Friday, November 23, 2012
The Whole Fam Damily
Check it off the list...Thanksgiving 2012.
Having a blended family requires patience and flexability. It requires humor and humilty. It requires putting past greivences aside for a better, brighter future.
My husband and I spent the holiday with my baby daddy's family. Sound nuts? Seemed perfectly normal to me. I have been around this family for 12 years. Since before my oldest was born. These are the people who saw me through having babies, moving house, 2 cancers, the demise of a relationship, the beginning of another, a wedding, and ultimately a holiday. A holiday where we all came together, my new addition of husband and two more little girls. Nothing was akward or uncomfortable. Just good times, good food, and lots of laughing.
We all accept each other, warts and all.
Hmmmmm. Warts and all. It sems to be a theme in my life these days. A category that I feel people fall into. Those who love us warts and all and those who.....simply don't. I am making the choice to only be around those who take all of me. Not the perfect, non-offending, well behaved me. The me that fucks up and stumbles and falls. The me that does stupid stuff. The me that says stupid drunk things. The me humbles herself for forgiveness. The me that wants nothing but love, family, and friendship. The me that cries over loss. The me that craves to do good and be kind but doesn't always succeed.
And that's how we rolled this holiday...the whole fam damily.
Peace Out
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
The Very Good Year
As years go...
The end of a calendar year makes people look back and look forward. A new year kinda feels like a promise. A promise that THIS COULD BE THE YEAR!
The year for what I ask? I am asking you, the year for what?
I'm going to tell you for what.......
This is the year with no restrictions. No ill feelings. No enemies.
This is the year that I teach my children what it means to live big. How to be kind and generous.
This is the year that I stop being ok with just is, and start pushing for more.
I am honestly sick and fucking tired of this last year. There, I said it. It's been a piece of shit since September.
Go on notice, I'm done. Here's my battle cry- I'm done with the bullshit.
The very good year shall commence and there will be casualties along the way. But that's how this is going to go down. You shed me? I shed you and all the negativity that goes with it.
I'm going to write something and have it published.
I'm going to take tap dancing lessons.
I'm going to teach my children generosity of heart and actions.
I'm going to walk freely where ever I want or don't want and any one can suck it if they don't like it.
I am only going to apologize once. Take it or leave it.
I'm going to travel, hopefully to India.
I'm going to help others.
I'm going to free myself of the guilt of not doing something I don't want to fucking do.
I'm going to say yes to the good and no to the bad.
I'm going to have a kick ass yard and garden.
I'm going to climb a mountain.
I'm not going to do repeats, of anything. It's all new this time around.
I am going to blog freely with out restrictions.
I am going to do a soul search to figure out who my friends really are. If I can only count them on one hand, that's ok. I would rather only have a few that accept me and I them unconditionally, than many that only like me if I don't fuck up.
And, I'm going to miss a lot of people. The well is poisoned. I can't stick around to be tied to the whipping post. I will admit some of it has been in my head and my fault, and some of it was an easy way to find a bad guy.
Peace the fuck OUT
The end of a calendar year makes people look back and look forward. A new year kinda feels like a promise. A promise that THIS COULD BE THE YEAR!
The year for what I ask? I am asking you, the year for what?
I'm going to tell you for what.......
This is the year with no restrictions. No ill feelings. No enemies.
This is the year that I teach my children what it means to live big. How to be kind and generous.
This is the year that I stop being ok with just is, and start pushing for more.
I am honestly sick and fucking tired of this last year. There, I said it. It's been a piece of shit since September.
Go on notice, I'm done. Here's my battle cry- I'm done with the bullshit.
The very good year shall commence and there will be casualties along the way. But that's how this is going to go down. You shed me? I shed you and all the negativity that goes with it.
I'm going to write something and have it published.
I'm going to take tap dancing lessons.
I'm going to teach my children generosity of heart and actions.
I'm going to walk freely where ever I want or don't want and any one can suck it if they don't like it.
I am only going to apologize once. Take it or leave it.
I'm going to travel, hopefully to India.
I'm going to help others.
I'm going to free myself of the guilt of not doing something I don't want to fucking do.
I'm going to say yes to the good and no to the bad.
I'm going to have a kick ass yard and garden.
I'm going to climb a mountain.
I'm not going to do repeats, of anything. It's all new this time around.
I am going to blog freely with out restrictions.
I am going to do a soul search to figure out who my friends really are. If I can only count them on one hand, that's ok. I would rather only have a few that accept me and I them unconditionally, than many that only like me if I don't fuck up.
And, I'm going to miss a lot of people. The well is poisoned. I can't stick around to be tied to the whipping post. I will admit some of it has been in my head and my fault, and some of it was an easy way to find a bad guy.
Peace the fuck OUT
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)