dirty girl

I had a dream the other night that is still haunting me with its dark humor and strange depth.
Although first off we must get the facts out there. I am not a full fledged lesbian. In fact, I do not believe that I am any sort of lesbian at all. I like kissing them from time to time and that is about it. well, read on and you will see.
I was on a bed in a pale yellow room with nothing interesting about it save the fact that it was small. I was kissing the most beautiful middle eastern woman ever and her girlfriend was sitting in the chair at the end of the bed, watching. As I kissed the girl I became aware of the way she smelled and I started to panic. I could feel her pushing her body up against mine, trying to force my attention to her vagina..."Oh God," I thought. the last thing I want to do is go down on this girl...but isn't that what she wanted me to do? isnt that what lesbian girls do? was her girlfriend noticing my hesitancy? Am I being rude? As I pondered my situation, The girl pulled away from my embrace and pushed me back on the bed and then stomped out of the room. I sat there stunned for a moment and then looked over at the girlfriend and suddenly noticed her appearance. she had a round face and high forehead, complete with rosy cheeks and blond straight hair, pulled back into a junior high ponytail. she was wearing an old lady blouse that as I watched, she began to remove. underneath she had on a black lacy bra and her tits were just spilling out over the top, crowning the chubby body that bordered on voluptuous. she moved toward me and we began to kiss and this time, I was enjoying it, I was getting excited. especially when she told me her little secret: she could not get off on oral sex alone and felt as though she was living a lie. she pulled out a double ended dildo and told me that she wanted to have sex. She handed the toy to me and I just sat there holding it awkwardly. I did not know what to do. I did not feel comfortable using it and then suddenly realized that I was no longer turned on. I tried to pretend that it was and set it on her stomach and began rubbing it back and forth over her bellybutton. she shuddered in disgust and pulled away from me while telling me calmly that this was why she hated women. they were too unsure of themselves and not aggressive enough. I was indifferent to this information and proceeded to ask her what she was going to do about the girlfriend she had in the other room. she sighed and told me that she did not know what to do because she had a male lover that she saw from time to time. a lover whose presence she was finding it increasingly more difficult to hide from her girlfriend seeing as how he was made of moths and everytime he came to visit her, he left moth residue all over the walls. She then began to tell me that fucking him was great because she could feel the moths moving inside her. as she spoke I began to look around at the walls and could see the moth carcasses stuck to the walls dead and in the final throes of dying, their bodies gyrating, their wings fluttering as their smooshed guts kept them glued to the pale yellow paint. I suddenly realized that I had to get out of there. I got up and fled from the room only to find the girl I had offended originally lying on a yellow beanbag, tears streaming from her eyes. It was then that i realized how beautiful she was. I looked at her blue green eyes framed with thick, straight dark lashes, her short dark hair shining in the light that was streaming in from the window lighting up her olive skin, bringing attention to her dark, perfectly shaped eyebrows and rosy cheeks glowing beneath the smooth light brown of her skin. I had the overwhelming urge to console her and so I crouched down, leaning into her face, smelling her scent and told her how beautiful she was. how radiant she seemed when she had tears in her eyes. she lashed out in anger and hurt and told me to leave her alone and though I wanted to stay and make her feel better, I stood, feeling my knees creak in protest and made my way out through the kitchen door and into the cold sunlight, the only thing on my mind the desire to be what I am not. a lesbian. I wanted to hold her and give her the love she needed. I wanted to hold her beauty and revel in it yet I could not because I knew that despite the moment I was in and the empathy I felt, I still craved the crass, rough sexuality of the man. always have always will...against my better judgment. against all odds and against all the past pain inflicted on my person I still crave the company and sexual attention of the man.

The funny thing about this dream is that i believe that i may not have only been myself, I may also have been the beautiful girl as well. not to say that i am beautiful but to say that I know her pain. I know what it is like to be rejected and confused.
maybe I was the curvy blond as well, dirty and confused, craving the seemingly "disgusting" touch of a man.
who knows. all I know is that the damned dream has haunted me.

the devil beats his wife.
Current mood: amused

I drove home today as the devil beat his wife. The clouds a dark curtain to the left of my vision, the bright sunny rain pouring down on the windshield of my car. I look into my rearview mirror to see the wind whipping the trees and the sun and bright clouds pushing the dark off of the horizon. In the middle of all this is a rainbow and I cannot help but smile at the idiosyncrasy of the term, "The devil's beating his wife"...because it is usually then that the sun comes out through the rain and lights up the rain water like a prism...creating what we all love most: the rainbow. which I guess could also be known as the accidental child of the devil and his wife? a little beautiful, "whoops!" haha. Maybe that is why he is beating his wife.
How ridiculous.

the bond of family
Current mood: nostalgic

I race through the downpouring of rain to pick up my kids from school today. I am in a hurry because the one time I was late, my five year old was crying and worried. I make it just in time and as I pull up I see my little one waving at me wildly, her hair escaping from her hairtie and plastered to her forehead, her sweater sagging off her shoulders from the weight of her back pack. standing next to her is her big sister, staring at me with an expression of disdain that only a pre-teen can execute with such ease. they are like night and day, the younger clad in pink stripes and black mary janes, hair slicked back in a sagging pony tail with little strings of hair escaping around her face, the elder in baggy jeans and a powell peralta long sleeved t-shirt complete with baggy black zipper hoody, her hair hanging in her face, her vans untied with trailing, dirty white laces.
at home they fight and argue, pitting themselves against one another as though their livelihood depended on it and yet whenever I see them outside with other kids, at school or in the front yard of our home, they always seem to be huddled close, the eldest standing tall and awkward, the younger pressing against her while standing on one foot, her hands on her hips, her other foot thrust forward, her face a study in tough, while her big sister talks it up, leading the way with her words while her little sister backs her up with her body language. out there it is them against the world, at home it is always the older telling the younger how annoying she is, the younger telling the older to get away from her. out in the real world, the roles change and they back eachother up or seek eachother out. as I pull up today, they both spot my car and big sister registers my presence before trudging sullenly toward my car while little sister bounces and skips half a step behind, her little hand thrust out to grab onto her "arch nemesis/ best friends" backpack, to find safety and confidence through family.
something about this makes my heart feel tight...maybe because it reminds me of me and my big brother. He is the first one I ever looked up to, my first hero, my first enemy, my first friend. I recognize this relationship dynamic and I approve. It makes me more happy than they will ever know.
life may be hard when you have two mouths to feed but life would be lonely and boring without them.

Threes company + me
Current mood: amused
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural

I dreamed that I was on the set of Threes Company. I was actually part of the show but of course, since I was, things took a turn for the worse. They were asked to leave their apartment and jack called me to come over and deal with mr. ferley. I went over and the house was empty no furniture, no nothing. there was a couple there looking around and talking about renting the place. I ran them off by telling them that somebody had died there. as they walked out the door, the phone rang(everything was gone except for the phone I guess) and I answered. it was Mr. Ferley calling to see if everyone had left yet. He thought I was janet but I told him I was cindy so that I could play stupid. he commented on my deep voice and I told him I had a cold. that was when I heard a rustling in Jacks room. I opened the door and there was ALL the furniture from the house and jack, janet and cindy...hiding behind the upturned couch. I gently closed the door behind me and made sure to take a good look around before I asked them what they were doing. I had never seen the rest of the house before. I had only seen certain angles of it and I was dying to see the rest. the weird thing was that my mind made sure that all of the furniture was there. the couch, the phone stand, the painting on the wall. so enough about that for now, apparently jack and janet had decided that they were not moving out at all and that they would just hide all of the furniture in the room figuring mr. ferley would be too lazy to ever look. they were counting on me to distract him and keep the other people from moving in...which I did. at that point, there was a knock at the front door and I ran out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind me. I sprinted up the living room step to the door and opened it on a real life mr. ferley dressed in a blue jumpsuit. he asked me if I was the new tenant and i said yes. I began to nervously walk around showing him how much I loved the place. I walked toward the back wall and opened the blinds that never opened during the show and found that they were broken. I told him i wanted them fixed and he left. I looked out the window and was surprised by what I saw. there was a whole sunken stone back deck, complete with firepit. I wondered why this was never in the show. I remember larry having an outside but not these guys. at this point I decided to go back in and find the gang. I heard them talking and the shower running. I always wanted to know what the bathroom looked like so I went in. the girls were in there trying to coax jack inside(funny, I remember him never being allowed). I helped them, telling him that now was his chance. He ran in there and they told us that they were going to make out. janet was on top of cindy on a bench like the ones in the gym or sauna room. it was steamy and cindy was naked, janet was not. they started to kiss as jack and I stood there openmouthed. that was when it got weird. janet pulled back and just started slapping the shit out of cindy. over and over as her cheek got redder and redder and her fogged glasses flew off. I was mesmerized but jack walked out, breaking the spell and waking me up.
God, I am so fucked up.

hahaha the things that are not funny are so funny.
Current mood: amused
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural

as I drove home on my break from work last night I saw the most beautiful sunset. flaming orange and hot pink light reflecting off of storm clouds as the sun made its descent. I saw pink light blazing on the steeple of the church as I passed. I looked away because it was just so overwhelming, so bright...and that is when I saw it. The most magnificent rainbow ever. it had every color that a rainbow should have and I could see the entire arc of it, where it began and where it ended and it looked to me as though it may end over my house...and that is when I knew that it was a sign...from God. a sign from God that I should be gay. because well, I mean it is so obvious right?
such beauty has to mean something right?

mice make me want to run screaming.
Current mood: exhausted
Category: Life

I think there is a mouse in my house and I really should be sleeping because I am so exhausted my mind is barely in working order.
But I am scared of mice and I am scared of my dreams tonight.
This past week, my dreams have been littered with old lovers and connections lost or never even found. I dreamed of pulling one of said lovers from a dark pit where he was being attacked by something otherworldly...I was at the top of a slide, on my stomach reaching down into the abyss... I grabbed him by the wrists and pulled him up to me, pushed him up above me so that I could climb up and over him, look down at him, admire him...love him...if you know what i mean.

I dreamed I was a teacher at a boarding school and and almost got fired for being out too late with a man that I had been seeing. I was confronted with evidence of my rendezvous in the form of dirty green and gold feathers that had fallen off of my dress as I ran through the dark streets knowing I was late and not wanting to be stuck with the man in question. after being chastised and told to go to my room and pack my things, I found myself in the corner wedged between the wall and the bed with another old flame that still has yet to go out and I curled up with him, only to have him flip over and hold me down, overpowering me, making me love him...

I dreamed of sitting, holding hands with the one time love of my life, looking down and seeing our hands old and liverspotted, with nothing but swirling dark space below us.

I dreamed of running, running, running, faces blurring past in my desparation to create a distance between myself and a man who still to this day tries to suck my strength away. I woke up sweating from that one, knowing that I of course...was born to run.

This weekend my real life was a menagerie of new flames flickering and old flames sparking in agitation as I was bombarded by a series of situations that I could in no way, deal with because really, there was no time to and there was just too much of it at once.
I move forward too quickly and my heart flutters too rapidly to be seen clearly or felt intimately for any long period of time and so the flames grow brighter, feeding on the energy I seem to create in my frenzied motion and as they do, they sometimes manage to hem me in, making me vulnerable to their heat.
I can't help it, I love them all so much yet not any one of them enough(o.k. well maybe one, you know who you are...stalker). It is just that I find myself overwhelmed with the belief that I am meant to be just this...an independent woman that is free to experience whatever affection she may come across and affect their lives and my own in the process...for better or for worse but I would like to think better for the most part because I am meant to be the woman that runs. the rapid accumulation of experience is what I need because whether it is in my life or in my dreams I am always running, the faces blurring past, my feet light as air and my mind higher than the sky...only once in a while my feet pausing in midstride, bringing the faces into focus and making my heart beat in time with another...sometimes it lasts days, sometimes it lasts months, sometimes it lasts years...but it never lasts forever because when I have learned what I can, my body and mind get the itch to move forward, to gain more understanding and the weight of another seems to hold me back, still my motion, slow my mind, stop my heart and when that happens, my creativity atrophies.
So, this may be my truth. o.k. I suppose but sometimes the damned dreams threaten to break my sanity, leaving me feeling empty and confused. I miss them all, I love them all...even when they don't love me anymore because they are still a part of me and I know that the reason it ended was because I had to let it go, I had to run and move forward in space in time, to be what I am and fulfill my need for independence. I usually know what I am letting go of and though it hurts everytime, I know that doing it was right because I am a bad girlfriend(not a bad lover, only a bad girlfriend) and that am not meant to be pinned down and held captive, forced to be content with the same face day after day. I do not like being an object that can be held, can be owned. I like being an object that can be desired, an object that is in motion while creating energy in its wake...whether that energy haunts me later or not.
so it goes, I am a fickle bitch.
or maybe I just have not found somebody that can keep up with my rapidly changing mind, my high energy life...or maybe I have and he just keeps eluding me...running from me.

knowledge is power.
Current mood: thirsty

First of all, let it be known that this is not so much a political rant as a spiritual rant about politics and the life we as americans or better yet humans, are all in together.
I don't know about the rest of you, but I have never been so excited about a presidential race...ever. yeah yeah yeah, the last time, when Bush fought for his second term, I was on the edge of my seat, my heart in my throat, my fear taking over because I already felt that I knew the outcome. I knew that his charisma would win out once more despite the obvious fact that he was an imbecile. Kerry just was not powerful enough. Not charismatic enough because I hate to say it but that is what it has boiled down to over the years, a popularity contest. We could be sad about this or we could do what I have already done, see a glimmer of hope or better yet a bit of amusement at the thought that the stupidity of the masses may just tip the scales...in the right direction, or at least the direction that may make this country salvageable for now. Of course everybody has their opinion on the matter and mine does not matter much in the big scheme of things and really, nobody elses does either and that is why i am not giong to go into the details of the election or my particular views on the matter. I just wanted to take a moment and appreciate the beauty of a growing consciousness (within this country at least) that has slowly been making an effort to defy violence and vote for beauty, whether that be literally or figuratively.
I have lived so much of my life in fear. In fear of the future, in fear of fate. Having children at first only intensified my fears, made them even more real, more imminent. I have, over the course of my career as a mother, learned to let go of those fears and embrace the strength within. I guess that is why I take interest in these things...politics and such. Not that I believe in them or really care all that much about them, I know that there are a lot of untruths littering our perspective of our government. I only like to keep up, arm myself with what knowledge I can to keep my fears at bay and teach my daughters that knowledge is power and you have to know exactly what is going on so that you can attempt to make your decisions wisely. so yes, i take an extreme interest in this election, knowing that history is being made and that we are on the verge of destruction, another empire possibly about to expire. I am intrigued by this race, this competition to see who will come out on the proverbial top and inherit this giant pile of decaying shit...and that my friends, is how I keep the fear tamped down...I take it all for what it is and keep my eyes wide open because life is what it is and that is all that is. we are all going to die, in fact we are all dying right now so let's have a good time, find amusement where we can and love and nurture our children to give them the strength to reach adulthood and be able to experience every range of emotion and physical sensation because I guess that is what it is all about. Living. So, here we go.

But hey, that is not to say that I have not studied the logistics of sustainable living, gardening and pretty much surviving if our current political climate grows hotter, even less stable and our food/oil/energy sources grow more scarce because as I said before, knowledge is power. and the real, inevitable truth is right there on the horizon.