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.

Tides

I'm feeling a shift like when the tide starts to flow back towards the land and the moon is on high, full and heavy in the sky. She's pregnant with the dreams and possibilities of tomorrow, yet wraps me in her soft glow and covers my face with chilled kisses that keeps me planted here in the now.
There are no promises for she is ever changing but constant in her phases. Reminding me to be as flexable as the water she calls to her, and strong as the waves that swallow the land whole. It'll all happen when it's ment to daughter, take what lays before you and face the future knowing you have all that you need in your hands already.

I have the best guts...

...and I fucking hate it. They always seem to know what's going on even when I don't want to see it. It's like that scene in Clock Work when our little Droogie Alex is strapped up all good like with his peepers peeled back to watch all the flickers. My guts always make me have to take another look at what is going on and try and see the things that I may have missed and pry really don't want to know. They are the quick band-aid rip that stings like a son of bitch, annoys the hell out of you, maybe even piss you off a bit, but at least it's over fast and you forget about it quicker. Ya that's what its like. I hate knowing with out knowing, I hate having this built in bullshit detector... Hell not even bullshit it can be just a little bent truth and my stomach twitches with a sense of, something ain't right here mate. I use to think that I was just being and over reactive, sensitive woman as it were, but Every Fucking time my tummy does this little flip, when I hear a line or read a text, email what ever and it just doesn't seem to add up, there it goes again, *twitch twitch*

"Processing"

I keep hearing this word when in reference to relationships, processing. An I suppose that's what I've been trying to do so far this year, process what it is that I want in life. I've been rather spoiled as of recently, with many new friends that have become wonderful lovers. It's like letting a kid have the keys to a candy store and saying "knock yourself out kid." I must admit as of late, like a kid who's let wild in a candy shop, I have a bit of belly ache and finding that I miss having something with a bit more substance in my life. It's just a matter of now trying to define what that substance is? I will admit I crave to have someone to call my own and vice versa, but at the same time, I have made so many good friends that I've shared such wonderful moments with, I don't want to loose that either. I've been on the hunt to see if I can't maybe stumble my way into an open relationship/ polyamerous or what ever the hell you want to call it. As a women I suppose it's not that hard to find lovers, I've done rather well on that end, but to find a man (note man is the word used here) that is willing not only to be shared (which usually is no problem either) but be willing to share as well, with complete trust love and openness has become a bit more of an enigma to say the least. Still I will fully admit that once I found someone that I did love that much, someone that I could be that open and honest with, the desire or want to be with others wouldn't be that great, but still it's just having the option. I think that may be the failure of my previous relationships, not just the lack of communication and over all lack of honesty (with some), but the fact that I was tied in. I have to admit I feel trapped claustrophobic not just physically either but mentally, emotionally. I think one of things that I have seen with couples that have a open understanding is that they are so close, honest and the fighting isn't over silly things for lack of talking, it's over things that really matter, and even then it's not so much fighting as much as just having a rough patch and working through it. I've always been a preacher of finding an equal, not someone that completes me, but someone that challenges me, a friend, partner in crime, someone to grow and evolve with and never settle down. So there is my processing, now to see what this process may produce. ;)

Out with the old and keep on moving.

So I did my annual phone book cleaning. This year was a bit different though. I think this may have been my heaviest "date" year, and my most disappointed in man kind year as well.
A lot of names where dumped today, and I do mean a lot of names. I was really disappointed by it actually. There were one or two names that I wound up dumping from my phone that actually made me really sad. Names I really enjoyed talking to, names I didn't even give a shit if I wound up dating them or not, because I dug them so much as a person, I just wanted them to be in my life as a friend. The sad thing is I expect more from my friends than I do from someone I'm "dating". I think that may catch a lot of people off guard. Still its better to know these guys can't handle that kind of thing up front I suppose and just be done with it. Still surprises me to this day how many people out there don't believe men and women can be just friends?

Course there is a bit of a personal dilemma with that whole line of thinking... It's like, if I do say I want to date you, it means I'm not expecting it to last very long, but if I want to just hang out with you, get to know you, and be friends, I think you have potential to be something more. Pry some of the craziest logic I've ever had but its very true. Hence I expect way more from my friends than I do my dates, and also why its more of a disappointment to delete a name who I was just hanging out with and getting to known, than a guy I dated once. Oh well...