Intrigue

People are such wonderfully strange creatures. Most the time I don't know what to make of them, they confuse and astound me.

Every now and again an individual will poke his head out from the sea of faces and make himself known. It makes my head kind of fall to the side a little, in a quizzical fashion, not unlike a dog that just heard something strange that caught it's attention. You take in the glimpse of the face and try to work your way towards it, and in that journey you always find more than what you bargened for.

There has been a haunted ghost that I found completely wonderous, there is a practical man that suprised me with a dark crunchie center, and then there is the left field acquaintance, whom wrapped me in a moment of wanting so strong, I find myself lost in my path of ideals.

With all these open doors (well I'll be honest and rephrase by saying half open doors) in front of me, I am completely taken aback by the human male and his curious ways of expressing his desires.

I've been consumed by these moments and left with nothing but curiosity. I get to question myself again and learn about myslef through their actions. It's liberating and yet so confined at the same time. So many questions left inside me to wonder about? My nature of " never say what if" being challenged at every turn in three different ways.

I want to meet the ghost face to face and know if what I think could be real can be brought to the flesh. I want to push and  cultivate the beautifuly dark plushness of the practical man, but more than anything I want to know why and how the passions of an ordinary acquaintance was brought full force to the surface and what it really all ment, instead of it being brushed under the carpet for the means of convince and proper social graces.

My buttons are pushed, curiousity peeked, and my lust to know for better or for worse pushed beyond its limits of wanting. I want, I lust, I need to know the answers to the riddles inlaid with in the intrigue that makes my heart pound against my ribs.

I've always wondered...

What it would be like to be a Bitch? I know I talk tough, and I dub my self "a Bitch", "Queen Bitch" even on some occasion, but it isn't really true.  It's more of a joke or a jest. Something  I did to try and reclaim an unjust or slanderious word used about my sex. Like others have taken back other words that are about race or what have you...

Today though, today my friends... Oh yes I will take that title and wear it proudly and perhaps even live up to it because, and I quote, "shit just done got real".

I'm not likely for shit talking, there is nothing that I have ever said or would say about a person that I would not say to their face, because well that's just the kind of person I am. I also don't normally make snap judgements about people. I may get a vibe (and its usually a very dead on one) but I'm pretty willing to fore go that feeling and actually get to know someone for myself, before writing them off or ignoring them, because.... and stick with me on this one.... my perceptions and feelings about someone may not be the same as another's, and I may be capable of cultivating a relationship where someone else hasn't because of that. (Funny little things perceptions)

Any hoo back to this Queen Bitch thang. When I get told that things are being said about my person, by people that don't really know me and obviously don't want to know me because they have decided to make their judgements off someone else's comments, or because my projected personality is one that they don't understand, and do not wish to make investments to understand, I only have one thing to say and yes it is bitchy, so brace yourself, FUCK THAT!

In the immortal words of Popeye, "I am who am", bad times, stress, hard times and all, this is just who am right now. I work my fucking ass off for the very little, and I do mean very little I have. I've fought, and clawed for it, I have put myself in harms way for it, I have taken punches, physically and emotionally, for it. All the these things have shaped and molded me and there plenty of people that have pushed passed any walls I may have, (which are few because I'm not one to really put up any fronts) and met me, gotten to know me, and think I'm a pretty chill and groovie chick.

So again I'm going to slip on the Bitch crown for just a second and say, if you are going to judge on someone else's words, instead of taking the time to find out the truth for yourself, and!!!!! or, then proceed to pretty much snub, ignore and or talk shit, because of it. That's just fine darling, because I don't really need someone like that in my life right now any way.

Fuck ya very much see ya around, if you ever want to actually get to know me for me, have a nice life till then.

My Babies love me...

So one of my greatest fears came to pass today. It's nothing too huge, just one of those things that you worry about if you happen to have cats, especially if they are 50/50 indoor out door aannd they have free access to the house. Yesterday was a long day of car shopping that lead to plans of waking up early on Sunday and drive to Sacramento. (Boo!!) So I proceeded to get to bed around 1:30 am, like I do, When my head finally hit my pillow all I wanted to do was sleep, but a strange smell hit my nose that was odd but strangely familiar. It was sour in a way that almost resemble spoiled food... almost. My room has been filled with many a offence smell since I've had the kittens. There is no need to go into detail on the matter, but just as we have gone through their growing pains of potty training and adolescence and all that lintels, this still wasn't quite like any of those moments. I couldn't pin point the source to save my life as ever once in a while it would drift through my nostrils. My allergies flared up for some crazy reason, (pry all the cleaning the been going on) my eyes where driving my nuts and sneezing eventually wore me out to the point of exhaustion and I proceeded to pass out. Tonight was filled with more cleaning and when I went to change my bedding it happened... I moved my pillows to start sttipping down my bed when low and behold, there was the source of that oh so strange yet familiar smell........ You have to be fucking kidding me?!?!? I think I puked in my mouth just a little bit when I saw it. It even explained the sudden allergy break out of sneezing and itchy swollen eyes. WTF!?!?! A mouse. That't right a very dead and decomposing mouse was left for me under my pillow. OMFG! EWWwwwwwEww Ewww EWWWWWWWWW! After dispatching of the "gift" all I could was laugh. It has to be the most disgusting but also the sweetest thing a pet has ever done. It's one of those moments where I feel like I really got something right. My babies, when out in the wild, feel they need to pay homage to Mama and bring her some of the kill of the day. *sigh* just sucks that I know am going to be completely paranoid (for good reason) and will have to check my bed every night before I go to sleep from here on end.