Blog 31………ADVENTURES OF A CHODE HUNTER (part one)
As a man pushed past me knocking me to the side, and them bum rushed the door, slamming it in my face……………a thought came to mind…………”What a Chode.”
The Basic Definitions you will need to know while reading these adventures are as follows, (more will come in later parts)
What Defines a Chode:
A chode is a dude that has way passed chicken fucker status. He is rude, neanderthalish, a dumb ass, has no social skills, tends to have bad breath, and thinks all of this makes him the shit……About 75% of chodes have a good amount of money and think that makes it okay for them to be a chode-meister………… [chode-meister = ultimate chode] an example of the ultimate code is when a chode with a wedding ring tells you he is planning on fucking someone tonight and looks at you.
Insider tip: Chodes tend to have the “huhhhh” look on their face as well as their bottom lip slightly hangs down.
What is a Chode Hunter:
I am a Chode Hunter, out to give “chode stamps” to all who are guilty. I walk the streets either by myself or with my ladies, dressed in sparkle chode attractors and from time to time with glow in the dark/color changing light sabers (please note: if you are trying to be a first time chode hunter, the light saber is for a level 5 hunter, be warned, light sabers tend to attract serious amounts of chodes, even chodes in training, especially if you and your girlfriend go into the “W” hotel during a computer developer convention……………from one hunter to another, that was scary for me, and I am a level 7 chode hunter)
What is a Chode Stamp:
A Chode Stamp is what a hunter throws down on one she has discovered to be a chode. For example, while at the “W” with said girlfriend and said light saber, a man walked up to me, put his drink down that had a wedge of orange in it, and asked me, “Does this look like a vagina.”
A mental chode stamp went directly in the middle of his forehead.
Chode Ratings:
Chode Ratings are what you give out to chodes to let them know they are a dumb ass. I do them in multiple of 10. Aka………”he is a chode times 10”…………….”No, No, No, he is a chode times 30.”
Now are you getting the drift……….
Well Let’s Rate Some Chodes.
Encounter One
I had gone out on what I had considered a bad date with a man I still have hopes is somewhat wonderful….but, I think he needs to deal with his “inner chode” ...Not only did he show up to our first date drunk, but he brought his daughter to the second half………………ummmm, should I bring my mom to the second date so we can all go bowling together………anyhoo, I explained to him my issues with the first date, he seemed to understand, and apologized for being drunk……my next encounter with him was at the Boom Boom Room where he tried to get me to go in a back room with him, after telling me he had been hanging with 30 girls in a hot tub…………………out came the mental “chode stamp” he apologized later for being drunk, at this point I just want to see if he can not be all perved out around me……… I am a princess, I do not go into a back room with a dude that has taken me on one bad date………again, does this chode think that he can act like this cause he plays music………………wellllllll, he won’t be playing me, that is for damm sure.
Chode Rating…… times 50 (I do not fuck random dudes in a back room)
Encounter Two
This involves a Chode Sticker………a chode sticker is a guy that bugs you no matter how much you try to maneuver away from him. I try to be slick when getting away from chodes for a couple reasons……they seem to want to follow you more if they notice that you are obvious about avoiding them, and they also make you explain why you are avoiding them, and welllll, I always try to be nice, so I really try to avoid the “chode chatter.” There is one chode sticker I see at quite a bit of shows, and he has started to cross the line, he is really bad when he is drunk. He grabs me from behind and pulls me close (I still have yet to remember his name) he puts his arms around me and rubs me with his sweat, he grabs both my forearms, to the point where for two weeks I was kicking a bruise he had left me. Men, do not bruise the ladies, that is not winning you any points, and if a lady says “stop grabbing me” I would listen. Cause the next time I see this chode-meister, I might have my light saber, in that case, he is going to get whomped with a large glow stick. This chode also comes up to me almost every show and goes, “you don’t remember me” I assure him I do, and he sees the look on my face, but I think he is to dense to get it, I remember him for all the wrong reasons.
Chode Rating…… Times 70 (you bruised me bitch)
Encounter Three
The chode is a friend of a friend, so unfortunately I have to encounter him quite often. I also know that he is going through a hard time after separating from his wife of a couple decades, and I have faith his “chode status” will be lowered. That being said……he is still in the “I am as horny as all the men in the world combined and will ask every person in the world if they want me to fuck them and then mention I have a shit ton of money even though I never breathe when I talk and keep on talking a million miles a minute cause I am on a serious copia of drugs.” Did I mention he lacks teeth. But come the fuck on, don’t ask me if I know any “easy friends that want to get fucked, HARD”……………How the Hell do I answer that one, talk about making a girl uncomfortable. I want to be able to introduce my friends to my other friends, I don’t feel comfortable if I do that and you plan on asking them to have “dirty-hard-sex” right off the bat. That is not making me look like a good friend………and I, am a good fucking friend.
Chode Rating…… Times 60 (I’m giving him some slack because he is going through a tough time.)
And trust me Ladies and Gentlemen, there have been many more ‘chode encounters’ these are the ones that first came to mind. I have them at least 3 times a day…….sometimes it is rough being a princess.
So protect yourself, have a light saber, or a whistle, or a kazoo, so you can sound the alarm and warn other ladies as well……”Chode-Meisters in the house” Ladies, we have got to help each other out.
And I will walk the streets of this city by the bay, light saber in one hand, chode stamp in the other, ready to defend my princess self against all that chodishness…………
Wish me the best of luck, I will need it.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
DODGING THE CHODE………
Now the first part of this dance move is keeping your eye out. Because the reality of the situation is it is not that hard to spot a chode, especially when they are intoxicated, so don’t get lost in your own bubble, it might get popped by a ‘chode wanderer’
So, chode stumbles up to you and you spin, dancing away, you can do the LAWNMOWER DANCE MOVE to get some distance. He is still following, PENGUIN DANCE MOVE it to the front, now shake your ass through the crowd, grabbing the joint offered to you and duck in your cloud of smoke…..SWIM DANCE MOVE at a 45 degree angle from the direction you were headed, breast stroking into a small pocket……it is good to tread some water now, look around, you are safe, and damm, did you just end up with a joint……awesomeness.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
Blog 30......Ending 30 at 30
Blog 30.....Ending 30 at 30.
These next few days note the end of my year at 30, and ohhhhhh, what a year it has been.
When I had turned 29, I had recently left my ex-husband, was homeless, and had just lost my restaurant and was still living in Eugene. I was completely lost...I had smoked crack for like two weeks (don’t worry peeps haven’t touched the stuff since, but like I always say, we all have to fall) I had no confidence in myself as a woman, I thought I needed a man, I cared what other people thought about me, I thought people were cool just cause they grew pot, I really was alone, and very well aware of that fact.
When I turned 30, I had just moved out of my parents house(again) finally landed a some what decent set of jobs in the city, and was starting to realize my powers as a woman. But I still felt that I was lucky if a man liked me, and not the other way around…………oh, how things change.
It is amazing all that can happen in the short time of a year, and how small that year really is in the course of a lifetime.
As I turn 31, I have been out on my OWN for over a year, I have a good set of jobs, I am not alone, and I am as happy I can be, there are times when I am sad, but I make a constant effort to LIVE and that makes me beam.
I believe in the power of “1” so “31”……look the fuck out.
Some Things I have learned this past year……
-It is about the balance.
This year, I have never experienced such pain, loneliness, and mind-numbing-aching-hollowness…………and I have never experienced such happiness, such pride, such confidence, I never knew I could be this happy. And I know I would not appreciate the highs if the lows did not exist. That I would not know this level of such self-satisfaction could exist if I did not leave my marriage and go through all the pain I went through. All the suffering, the falling and failing, the learning, the tears……………THEY WERE ALL WORTH IT………if I did not fall, I would have never realized my strength, my light, my powers to lift a people……I had to lift myself from the darkness first……and I have succeeded.
How can you see the light, if there is not darkness to contrast.
-I am, one hell of a woman……times infinity.
I spent almost 30 years of my life with no self-confidence, and I cared what other people thought about me, a lot. What a ding dong. I look back and shake my head and wish I could slap the younger me upside the head and call myself a chicken fucker……totally. I used to feel blessed if a man liked me, and thought most of the time, that it was enough. I used to be embarrassed when I said something stupid, or accidentally fucked up…………Now, I really don’t care. I think a man is damm fucking lucky to have a woman like me in their fucking life, and they need to recognize, and if they don’t, well………to bad for them, damm it. I’m still going to rock me out.
And there are many a man out there that would be damm happy to even be able to think about having a woman with my stature and grace. (I might cuss, but I am an elegant mother fucker) And we all make a fool out of ourselves, I for example always tend to trip on nothing on the sidewalk only in front of people, never when no one is watching. But, I am pretty sure, that happens to everybody, so fuck it. Fuck making a fool out of yourself, just cough it up to you being part of someone’s free TV and roll with it.
-I am a Princess.
I didn’t get it till this year. I thought I was just really weird (I actually am totally really weird, but I am also really a princess) I don’t think I understood how to channel my light, and this year I slowly learned……I don’t think I really got it until recent months. In the past few months I have felt my soul quiet, my pace has slowed, my parting dulled (I still constantly groove, and psychedelics are still my best friend, but that is pretty much it) I am starting to come to terms with my powers of positivity, I feel different when I walk down the street. I feel my light hitting people as I walk by and feel them being affected by the positivity and love that oozes out of me. Sometimes I forget and get lost in my own world and when I spin out I have to check myself, because we all really do affect each other and we have to be aware of that whether we like it or not.
And it is not easy being a princess, but it is not easy being anyone…………and this is my path………so I might as well get my self as prepared as possible, knowing that unexpected shit is of course going to happen, and start to walk the walk.
I wait with baited breath for lessons of this new year………and oddly, look forward to the pain, knowing that as my light shines on the darkness a path will emerge………and it will lead me in the right direction.
Happy Birthday to me………times 31.
DANCE OF THE WEEK….
(This dance involves two people, see even I cannot always be a solo dancer……)
AT LEAST I’M ENJOYING THE RIDE
………I prefer to take the navigator position in this dance, only cause in life I really don’t like to drive, but I know we all have to do our share, so if you really want to navigate just let me know.
So the Driver has the easy part…….Put those hands at 10 and 2, you should really only take them off when you have to grab the joint (hey, I don’t condone the smoking and driving, let’s just say I understand it...totally)
Now the Navigator has the map out (this is old school dancing, there is no GPS) now if you navigate like me the map might me upside down for a while, okay, got that fixed, ohhhhh, look at the deer, and grab the wheel, remember if you point out shit to the driver you might distract them and have to play defense with the alignment of the car. Now point to the right Highway sign you just saw, give the driver a high-five……smell it (you don’t have to, that is just my move) grab the joint back, sit back, smile at the driver, take a big hit, smile, exhale…………………look around, and enjoy the ride.
These next few days note the end of my year at 30, and ohhhhhh, what a year it has been.
When I had turned 29, I had recently left my ex-husband, was homeless, and had just lost my restaurant and was still living in Eugene. I was completely lost...I had smoked crack for like two weeks (don’t worry peeps haven’t touched the stuff since, but like I always say, we all have to fall) I had no confidence in myself as a woman, I thought I needed a man, I cared what other people thought about me, I thought people were cool just cause they grew pot, I really was alone, and very well aware of that fact.
When I turned 30, I had just moved out of my parents house(again) finally landed a some what decent set of jobs in the city, and was starting to realize my powers as a woman. But I still felt that I was lucky if a man liked me, and not the other way around…………oh, how things change.
It is amazing all that can happen in the short time of a year, and how small that year really is in the course of a lifetime.
As I turn 31, I have been out on my OWN for over a year, I have a good set of jobs, I am not alone, and I am as happy I can be, there are times when I am sad, but I make a constant effort to LIVE and that makes me beam.
I believe in the power of “1” so “31”……look the fuck out.
Some Things I have learned this past year……
-It is about the balance.
This year, I have never experienced such pain, loneliness, and mind-numbing-aching-hollowness…………and I have never experienced such happiness, such pride, such confidence, I never knew I could be this happy. And I know I would not appreciate the highs if the lows did not exist. That I would not know this level of such self-satisfaction could exist if I did not leave my marriage and go through all the pain I went through. All the suffering, the falling and failing, the learning, the tears……………THEY WERE ALL WORTH IT………if I did not fall, I would have never realized my strength, my light, my powers to lift a people……I had to lift myself from the darkness first……and I have succeeded.
How can you see the light, if there is not darkness to contrast.
-I am, one hell of a woman……times infinity.
I spent almost 30 years of my life with no self-confidence, and I cared what other people thought about me, a lot. What a ding dong. I look back and shake my head and wish I could slap the younger me upside the head and call myself a chicken fucker……totally. I used to feel blessed if a man liked me, and thought most of the time, that it was enough. I used to be embarrassed when I said something stupid, or accidentally fucked up…………Now, I really don’t care. I think a man is damm fucking lucky to have a woman like me in their fucking life, and they need to recognize, and if they don’t, well………to bad for them, damm it. I’m still going to rock me out.
And there are many a man out there that would be damm happy to even be able to think about having a woman with my stature and grace. (I might cuss, but I am an elegant mother fucker) And we all make a fool out of ourselves, I for example always tend to trip on nothing on the sidewalk only in front of people, never when no one is watching. But, I am pretty sure, that happens to everybody, so fuck it. Fuck making a fool out of yourself, just cough it up to you being part of someone’s free TV and roll with it.
-I am a Princess.
I didn’t get it till this year. I thought I was just really weird (I actually am totally really weird, but I am also really a princess) I don’t think I understood how to channel my light, and this year I slowly learned……I don’t think I really got it until recent months. In the past few months I have felt my soul quiet, my pace has slowed, my parting dulled (I still constantly groove, and psychedelics are still my best friend, but that is pretty much it) I am starting to come to terms with my powers of positivity, I feel different when I walk down the street. I feel my light hitting people as I walk by and feel them being affected by the positivity and love that oozes out of me. Sometimes I forget and get lost in my own world and when I spin out I have to check myself, because we all really do affect each other and we have to be aware of that whether we like it or not.
And it is not easy being a princess, but it is not easy being anyone…………and this is my path………so I might as well get my self as prepared as possible, knowing that unexpected shit is of course going to happen, and start to walk the walk.
I wait with baited breath for lessons of this new year………and oddly, look forward to the pain, knowing that as my light shines on the darkness a path will emerge………and it will lead me in the right direction.
Happy Birthday to me………times 31.
DANCE OF THE WEEK….
(This dance involves two people, see even I cannot always be a solo dancer……)
AT LEAST I’M ENJOYING THE RIDE
………I prefer to take the navigator position in this dance, only cause in life I really don’t like to drive, but I know we all have to do our share, so if you really want to navigate just let me know.
So the Driver has the easy part…….Put those hands at 10 and 2, you should really only take them off when you have to grab the joint (hey, I don’t condone the smoking and driving, let’s just say I understand it...totally)
Now the Navigator has the map out (this is old school dancing, there is no GPS) now if you navigate like me the map might me upside down for a while, okay, got that fixed, ohhhhh, look at the deer, and grab the wheel, remember if you point out shit to the driver you might distract them and have to play defense with the alignment of the car. Now point to the right Highway sign you just saw, give the driver a high-five……smell it (you don’t have to, that is just my move) grab the joint back, sit back, smile at the driver, take a big hit, smile, exhale…………………look around, and enjoy the ride.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Blog 29... More Lessons on my Path to being a Queen...let's make it to the promise land.
Blog 29...More Lessons on my Path to being a Queen...let’s make it to the promise land.
How many Queens do you run into a day?
This being a blog with “tenderloin” in it, you might be taking this question the wrong way...anyhoo...
I met a Queen last Saturday night, I was at a concert, she walked up and saw my glitter, and asked me to sparkle her. So of course I glittered her chest. Afterwards she took my friend and I all around the concert (turns out, she was married to one of the musicians) and we had a blast. At the end, as we were saying goodbye, she turned to me, looked me dead in the eye and said,
“You are a light, it beams from within you. It is quite obvious that your parents love each other. You truly are their love child. You can tell that you are filled completely with love, it is your job to spread this love that beams out of you.”
My friend said that the woman had nailed me, than asked if I had listened to what she had said, because she couldn’t read the look that was on my face, and she wanted to make sure that I had.
I turned to my friend and assured her that I had taken it all in, and the look wasn’t me not believing, it was me acknowledging her accuracy in explaining me. It was I coming to terms with my destiny, and it was a look of humbled pride across my face.
Pride because my light had shown through.
And this lady was not threatened by me, or my looks, or my boobs, she was secure enough in herself to see a woman as wonderful as her in front of her and embrace it.
I believe this woman to be a Queen.
And it only took two minutes of talking to this lady to realize her royalty, fuck it, you could see it as she walked over, it flowed out of her like water gushes from a breaking dam.
As we walked around the venue I took as many mental notes as I could.
Lesson 1….
We all have a Light within and that shit is powerful.
I know that my light is powerful, we all have a light within us. We just need to pull the bullshit out of the way so that we can let it shine. Our light is our self love beaming through, once we truly love ourselves, and believe we do the best we can, we start to have that same faith in others. It is so much easier when we deal with our own issues and problems first…I feel people are so quick to judge other people and tell them what to do, but the real issue is the man in the mirror….. An example, I believe in the positivity of people, because I believe in the positivity of myself. The more we see the light within, the more obvious others people’s light becomes.
Lesson 2….
We are all Royalty.
That crack head selling on the corner……..a prince, a princess (even the new midget crack head dealer I’ve been seeing around) That random person you walk by on Ellis Street. The man in the 3 piece suit walking outside the Westin, even the silver robot homie he walks past...WE ARE ALL ROYALTY. I just think a bunch of us aren’t aware of our powers and in not realizing our own powers, we fail to realize others as well. We are not aware of what all of us are capable of doing……of the light we hold inside.
When you look at someone and think that they are a prince or a princess or etc….you have an automatic respect for them. It is inherit that we respect royalty………Royalty and Respect go hand in hand. And if we all respected each other and our beliefs and convictions for the simple fact that they are what keeps everyone going…… wellllllllll.
Lesson 3.
Right and Wrong are Intrinsive.
Thou shall not kill...really? we need a burning bush for this one.
Thou shall not steal...no shit Sherlock, did you have to pass third grade math to figure this one out. Come the fuck on people, we know when we have done something wrong.
Something truly wrong is when we do some selfish-not-thinking-crap that affects other people. If you just affect yourself, than you can consider it a lesson, you go fucking with other people’s path to righteousness and you are starting to screw the pooch.
We inherently know when we are being rude, or mean, or judgmental, we just become to wrapped up in our own bubble to acknowledge it.
When we fuck someone over, we are aware, don’t play dumb with me bitches……..
So we are all on a path to be a King or Queen, we just have to find it within ourselves and be fucking respectful along the way.
And be aware that no one is perfect, and the more room we give others for mistakes and fuck ups, the more we give ourselves…………and if we all just do the best we can with good intentions………well shit, we can all make it to the Promise Land.
Let’s walk together little children………
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
The Crocodile.
So this is a great move for working your ways through crowds, however a drink in your hand is not ideal.
Stick your two arms straight out, make teeth with your fingers, now bring your arms and hands together and apart, making the mouth go up and down. After about 10 times, when the mouth is open, stick your head in there and close the mouth, kinda wiggle your head around (gross and owwwwww, the one attached to your neck ding dong) Finally your head is free, and continue with the biting...go crocodile go……
How many Queens do you run into a day?
This being a blog with “tenderloin” in it, you might be taking this question the wrong way...anyhoo...
I met a Queen last Saturday night, I was at a concert, she walked up and saw my glitter, and asked me to sparkle her. So of course I glittered her chest. Afterwards she took my friend and I all around the concert (turns out, she was married to one of the musicians) and we had a blast. At the end, as we were saying goodbye, she turned to me, looked me dead in the eye and said,
“You are a light, it beams from within you. It is quite obvious that your parents love each other. You truly are their love child. You can tell that you are filled completely with love, it is your job to spread this love that beams out of you.”
My friend said that the woman had nailed me, than asked if I had listened to what she had said, because she couldn’t read the look that was on my face, and she wanted to make sure that I had.
I turned to my friend and assured her that I had taken it all in, and the look wasn’t me not believing, it was me acknowledging her accuracy in explaining me. It was I coming to terms with my destiny, and it was a look of humbled pride across my face.
Pride because my light had shown through.
And this lady was not threatened by me, or my looks, or my boobs, she was secure enough in herself to see a woman as wonderful as her in front of her and embrace it.
I believe this woman to be a Queen.
And it only took two minutes of talking to this lady to realize her royalty, fuck it, you could see it as she walked over, it flowed out of her like water gushes from a breaking dam.
As we walked around the venue I took as many mental notes as I could.
Lesson 1….
We all have a Light within and that shit is powerful.
I know that my light is powerful, we all have a light within us. We just need to pull the bullshit out of the way so that we can let it shine. Our light is our self love beaming through, once we truly love ourselves, and believe we do the best we can, we start to have that same faith in others. It is so much easier when we deal with our own issues and problems first…I feel people are so quick to judge other people and tell them what to do, but the real issue is the man in the mirror….. An example, I believe in the positivity of people, because I believe in the positivity of myself. The more we see the light within, the more obvious others people’s light becomes.
Lesson 2….
We are all Royalty.
That crack head selling on the corner……..a prince, a princess (even the new midget crack head dealer I’ve been seeing around) That random person you walk by on Ellis Street. The man in the 3 piece suit walking outside the Westin, even the silver robot homie he walks past...WE ARE ALL ROYALTY. I just think a bunch of us aren’t aware of our powers and in not realizing our own powers, we fail to realize others as well. We are not aware of what all of us are capable of doing……of the light we hold inside.
When you look at someone and think that they are a prince or a princess or etc….you have an automatic respect for them. It is inherit that we respect royalty………Royalty and Respect go hand in hand. And if we all respected each other and our beliefs and convictions for the simple fact that they are what keeps everyone going…… wellllllllll.
Lesson 3.
Right and Wrong are Intrinsive.
Thou shall not kill...really? we need a burning bush for this one.
Thou shall not steal...no shit Sherlock, did you have to pass third grade math to figure this one out. Come the fuck on people, we know when we have done something wrong.
Something truly wrong is when we do some selfish-not-thinking-crap that affects other people. If you just affect yourself, than you can consider it a lesson, you go fucking with other people’s path to righteousness and you are starting to screw the pooch.
We inherently know when we are being rude, or mean, or judgmental, we just become to wrapped up in our own bubble to acknowledge it.
When we fuck someone over, we are aware, don’t play dumb with me bitches……..
So we are all on a path to be a King or Queen, we just have to find it within ourselves and be fucking respectful along the way.
And be aware that no one is perfect, and the more room we give others for mistakes and fuck ups, the more we give ourselves…………and if we all just do the best we can with good intentions………well shit, we can all make it to the Promise Land.
Let’s walk together little children………
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
The Crocodile.
So this is a great move for working your ways through crowds, however a drink in your hand is not ideal.
Stick your two arms straight out, make teeth with your fingers, now bring your arms and hands together and apart, making the mouth go up and down. After about 10 times, when the mouth is open, stick your head in there and close the mouth, kinda wiggle your head around (gross and owwwwww, the one attached to your neck ding dong) Finally your head is free, and continue with the biting...go crocodile go……
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Blog 28....Paranoia Strikes Deep, Into Your Heart it Will Creep......
Blog 28....Paranoia Strikes Deep, Into Your Heart it Will Creep…………
All right stop hey, what’s that sound, everybody look what’s going down…………….
Have you ever walked through the Tenderloin at 2am in the morning? Did you walk in the TenderNob up on Sutter Street, or did you walk through the dirty dirty? You know where I am talking about, Turk or Eddy, around Taylor or Jones……
Were you scared?
Why?
The other week I walked with two other friends through the dirty dirty after a show, they were holding hands kinda crunched together and looking scared, I was two feet ahead, corkscrew out, walking through packs of men 20 plus deep, head up, ready to roll. Parting through the crack heads like an arrow through soft wood. I might have gotten some catcalls but I can guarantee those crack heads would have fucked with my scared friends behind me before they would have touched me....because
Fear begets fear.
To have fear is one of the most natural instincts that we have, and it is the thing that holds us back the most.
And Fear is consuming.
*Fear is our thoughts taking over our ability to live.*
Now granted, I could get fucked with any given day in the Tenderloin, but the fact that I walk brazenly about with out fear, gives my mind more room for my instincts. Instead of my first thought being, “Ohhh no……this person is fucking with me…..”
My first thought is……”Hell Fucking no bitches, are you even going to attempt to fuck with me.”
When we are consumed by fear it inhibits us to experience all that we can. We limit ourselves.
We not only limit ourselves from the intense highs that life has to offer and the ability to truly live, but we limit ourselves from the pungent lows, the life altering lessons, the needed humbleness of life……………the chance of continued growth.
I myself am petrified of making a mistake again when it comes to my heart. And yet in recent weeks I have come to realize that while I think I am a tuff bitch, I am a pussy when it comes to falling in love and being in a relationship and I need to nut the fuck up and be okay with getting hurt, with making the wrong decision. Cause how the fuck am I going to know I made the right/wrong decision until I have experienced it. What the fuck is sitting at home worrying about it going to do……….
And fear is such a waste of fucking time.
How much time do we spend, just sitting there, scared to death on how shit is going to work out? I spend way to much freakin time on it...I could probably cut my shower time by 5 minutes if I stopped fucking fretting over shit in there...but its so quiet, and the water on my back zones me out...but really peeps, I got shit I got to do, I don’t have time to be fucking scared.
Now I am all one for having learned and being realistic, those things I get, but the being scared shit, the being paranoid thing, I don’t get.
From what I have experienced the people who are paranoid and fearful are the people who have way too much fucking time on their hands. GO DO SOMETHING…………
I guess that is what this princess is trying to say……..
LIVE….
Yes bad stuff will happen, but it will happen whether you worry about it or not. And when you clear your mind of fear you open your self up to your instinct and your gut, and doing what YOU would do...you become free...and
Let life………go and take you away.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
Making the Bed
Since I just got a new bed...whoop, whoop...I thought I would make up an accompanying dance.
So first I strip the blankets off in one big “Zorro” gusto….than I daintily fluff my pillows...I start with the sheet, giving it the toss and letting it float down… (I usually have to do this twice cause my sheet sucks at the “floating down” part...stupid corners...okay now the blankets, get them all in the right direction, and start to tuck... Once you are done tucking, kinda pull each side, smooth it out, stand back……………we made a good fucking bed, now the best part……….
Messing it up.
All right stop hey, what’s that sound, everybody look what’s going down…………….
Have you ever walked through the Tenderloin at 2am in the morning? Did you walk in the TenderNob up on Sutter Street, or did you walk through the dirty dirty? You know where I am talking about, Turk or Eddy, around Taylor or Jones……
Were you scared?
Why?
The other week I walked with two other friends through the dirty dirty after a show, they were holding hands kinda crunched together and looking scared, I was two feet ahead, corkscrew out, walking through packs of men 20 plus deep, head up, ready to roll. Parting through the crack heads like an arrow through soft wood. I might have gotten some catcalls but I can guarantee those crack heads would have fucked with my scared friends behind me before they would have touched me....because
Fear begets fear.
To have fear is one of the most natural instincts that we have, and it is the thing that holds us back the most.
And Fear is consuming.
*Fear is our thoughts taking over our ability to live.*
Now granted, I could get fucked with any given day in the Tenderloin, but the fact that I walk brazenly about with out fear, gives my mind more room for my instincts. Instead of my first thought being, “Ohhh no……this person is fucking with me…..”
My first thought is……”Hell Fucking no bitches, are you even going to attempt to fuck with me.”
When we are consumed by fear it inhibits us to experience all that we can. We limit ourselves.
We not only limit ourselves from the intense highs that life has to offer and the ability to truly live, but we limit ourselves from the pungent lows, the life altering lessons, the needed humbleness of life……………the chance of continued growth.
I myself am petrified of making a mistake again when it comes to my heart. And yet in recent weeks I have come to realize that while I think I am a tuff bitch, I am a pussy when it comes to falling in love and being in a relationship and I need to nut the fuck up and be okay with getting hurt, with making the wrong decision. Cause how the fuck am I going to know I made the right/wrong decision until I have experienced it. What the fuck is sitting at home worrying about it going to do……….
And fear is such a waste of fucking time.
How much time do we spend, just sitting there, scared to death on how shit is going to work out? I spend way to much freakin time on it...I could probably cut my shower time by 5 minutes if I stopped fucking fretting over shit in there...but its so quiet, and the water on my back zones me out...but really peeps, I got shit I got to do, I don’t have time to be fucking scared.
Now I am all one for having learned and being realistic, those things I get, but the being scared shit, the being paranoid thing, I don’t get.
From what I have experienced the people who are paranoid and fearful are the people who have way too much fucking time on their hands. GO DO SOMETHING…………
I guess that is what this princess is trying to say……..
LIVE….
Yes bad stuff will happen, but it will happen whether you worry about it or not. And when you clear your mind of fear you open your self up to your instinct and your gut, and doing what YOU would do...you become free...and
Let life………go and take you away.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
Making the Bed
Since I just got a new bed...whoop, whoop...I thought I would make up an accompanying dance.
So first I strip the blankets off in one big “Zorro” gusto….than I daintily fluff my pillows...I start with the sheet, giving it the toss and letting it float down… (I usually have to do this twice cause my sheet sucks at the “floating down” part...stupid corners...okay now the blankets, get them all in the right direction, and start to tuck... Once you are done tucking, kinda pull each side, smooth it out, stand back……………we made a good fucking bed, now the best part……….
Messing it up.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Blog 27.....Limo Confessions....(Part II)
Blog 27…….LIMO CONFESSIONS…..(Part II)
Okay, I do take cabs, I even have a little flashlight/whistle thingy in my purse....you need a cab outside the Boom Boom Room at 4am, I can start wheeling them in bitches. I even have one cabbie that will send one of his “fleet” to pick me up at anytime...but...
Let us remember the simple fact...I am a Princess...and if I can get a limo/towncar for the same price of a cab...wellllll....my awesomeness of an ass will be in the limo...thank you very much.
Limo Confessions Part One is Blog 15.
Limo Driver C...
My friends from Eugene were down visiting and it was their last day in town. We were going to the Stanton Moore show that night (um...Awesomeness in a show...totally...times 10) We had wondered the park all day, boom box playing, colors everywhere, and as we trudged back up to their hotel past Union Square one of them decided to stop for a burrito.
Me, being loaded and bored.. (I truly dislike waiting) Decided to do my “Directing the Traffic” Dance. As I directed drivers one way or the other on Powell Steet, and helped J-Walkers accomplish their goals, a stretched-limo pulled up to a stop. He was not following my traffic controlling rules...
Yet I could not get mad because he rolled down his window, and the dready handed me his business card and said, “I’ll take you anywhere for $20”
“Totally” was all I had time to say before the window was up and he was off.
You all have got to love my “white girl” dance moves and how they pay off.
And yes, we rolled to the Stanton Moore show in the stretch-limo...would you expect anything less from a princess.
***side note
...this driver also ending up being one of my two limo drivers set to pick my crew up from the Widespread Panic shows a month later. He is the one who came through. When you are dealing with drivers who you are paying cash to, and they are suppose to pick you up from a show...ALWAYS HAVE AT LEAST TWO OPTIONS...cause you know some chicken fucker,...ie...I grow a bunch of pot and like to just throw money at people (you are not all like that, but you know what kind of peeps I’m talking about, but I don't mind riding in his limo,) is going to come out of the show and see a limo and offer the driver some serious cash to blow the person off they were suppose to pick up and take their crew around. Instead of being pissed about shit like that, I am just always prepared, and know that even if I get two drivers, the likely hood of them finding peeps to pick up after a Panic show is very high...and yes my first driver all of a sudden stopped answering my calls...thank god for two limo drivers.***
TownCar Driver B...
I love towncar driver “B” I would only love him even more if I could smoke pot in his towncar, and yes, I probably ask him about once a month, but to be honest, I am so glad I know him, I really don’t give a flying fuck.
This guy is what a towncar driver should be.
I first met him on my way to a Katdelic concert, it was raining, I was working the merchandise table at the show and I was running late...and of course no cabs...so I flagged down anything I could from airport shuttles (they are cheap ways to get around town, trust me) to towncars. Well driver “B” stopped and I asked him how much...he said 10 bucks (this is how much a cab would cost there)...hell yes I hopped in that towncar.
I asked him if I could smoke pot in his car, he told me “no”...I just had to ask.
Well it turns out, there was some serious traffic, so homie and I just talked and I made him laugh and what now due to traffic would have been a $20 cab ride, was still a $10 towncar ride. I totally took his number.
And you know what, homie works 5 nights a week, still only charges me $10, if there is more people in the car he ups it to $15, but for just me, it is always that flat rate. He always picks me up if he can, and will even send a friend.
And he comes in handy for many reasons….
1. You can be 5 minutes late, he waits, he is your driver...no extra charge.
2. I am a BISS girl remember, so for me to see 3-4 shows a night is regular, I cannot do this if I have to try to flag a cab down on a busy weekend night when I am on time crunch. A perfect example of this is when my ladies and I went to Zigaboo, Galactic, Ivan Neville’s Dumpsterfunk, and to the Boom Boom Room for the after Galactic show with Stanton Moore. We all were BISS girls so we had free tickets to all the shows for some reason or another, I wasn’t really drinking that night, so all I had to pay for was getting my ass from show to show. We set out a plan and told towncar driver “B” what time to pick us up at each show. He charged us $10 bucks a trip and didn’t have us pay him till the end. We were able to walk out of each show, into the towncar, and jet off to the next, we caught almost each show in its entirety, our timing was perfect the whole night...none of it would have been possible if it weren’t for my most awesomeness of a driver, we tipped him $20, for a total of 60 bucks, between three ladies, that is a cheap evening out, filled with some serious music there peeps.
3. He lets me fit six in the car for a little extra. It’s a towncar, its roomy as fuck, you can put the big guy in the front, at least one fits on the floor behind the driver’s seat, and four in the back...we do it all the time, once we did it to Oakland after the Willie Nelson show at the Fillmore, we were trying to catch the David Grisman Show, we pulled up right as the show was ending, but all our friends were there so towncar driver “B” waits for us to have drinks with our friends and chat it up, then we all pile back in the towncar and head back across the bridge to the Boom Boom Room to continue the evening of music.
4. He lets me expand his musical mind. I think one of the reasons he loves me so much is because I tell him about all this music to check out and he digs it. If I have an extra ticket to a show, I offer it to him. When I went to go see John Scofield recently, I had to go to another show right after, and I realized that they had stopped checking tickets….he was going to take me to the next venue so I told him to come on in and check this shit out. Him and I stood at the back of Grace’s Cathedral on the Labyrinth in awe...he looked at me as we left and I knew he had been moved like I was...I think he appreciates me, as much as I appreciate him.
5. He has set the bar…..
Towncar Driver “C”
I first met this driver one day when I was rushing to work. I try to walk to work everyday, but I hate to be late. One day I tried to walk, but realized I was going to be late, so I was on hunt for a cab...of course, whenever I really need a cab...no cab...thank god...a towncar on the horizon. As he pulled up I asked how much to take me where I need to go opening the door....he told me $25, I laughed and closed the door.
He then rolled down his window and said, “This is a Limo, I usually charges 40 bucks, I am already giving you a discount.”
I responded with...”This is a towncar, I am a princess, and I my driver charges me $10 per ride on weekend nights, $25 at 3pm on a Tuesday is ludicrous.”
He looked me up and down and said...”Okay, you are my new VIP..anywhere you want to go...ten bucks, you can call anytime.”
I really don’t know how shit like this happens to me, but awesomeness times 11.
I then asked if I could smoke pot in his car...”No” was his answer...A girl has got to ask.
So now not only do I have a towncar driver when I need it at night, I got a daytime one too...
Whoop whoop bitches.
You know what time it is...
Let’s Dance
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
THE SWEEP...
This dance can serve many purposes...but lets get the move down first.
Hold the broom in your hand and start to sweep, broad, firm & fast strokes are the best............
And go back and make sure you cover all your ground, sweep, sweep, sweep (this is a great time to look for any “ground score” opportunities, as well as get the annoying guy that won’t stop hitting on you out of your area...sweep his ass out!) Now it is time for the dustpan, you can do one of two moves here. Either place the dustpan on your foot and use that for your leverage to collect your pile or bend over and hold the dustpan to do it and choke up on the broom. I do the later of the two moves, because, welllll.....a chance to show off my awesome ass, is a chance to show off my awesome ass...totally.
Okay, I do take cabs, I even have a little flashlight/whistle thingy in my purse....you need a cab outside the Boom Boom Room at 4am, I can start wheeling them in bitches. I even have one cabbie that will send one of his “fleet” to pick me up at anytime...but...
Let us remember the simple fact...I am a Princess...and if I can get a limo/towncar for the same price of a cab...wellllll....my awesomeness of an ass will be in the limo...thank you very much.
Limo Confessions Part One is Blog 15.
Limo Driver C...
My friends from Eugene were down visiting and it was their last day in town. We were going to the Stanton Moore show that night (um...Awesomeness in a show...totally...times 10) We had wondered the park all day, boom box playing, colors everywhere, and as we trudged back up to their hotel past Union Square one of them decided to stop for a burrito.
Me, being loaded and bored.. (I truly dislike waiting) Decided to do my “Directing the Traffic” Dance. As I directed drivers one way or the other on Powell Steet, and helped J-Walkers accomplish their goals, a stretched-limo pulled up to a stop. He was not following my traffic controlling rules...
Yet I could not get mad because he rolled down his window, and the dready handed me his business card and said, “I’ll take you anywhere for $20”
“Totally” was all I had time to say before the window was up and he was off.
You all have got to love my “white girl” dance moves and how they pay off.
And yes, we rolled to the Stanton Moore show in the stretch-limo...would you expect anything less from a princess.
***side note
...this driver also ending up being one of my two limo drivers set to pick my crew up from the Widespread Panic shows a month later. He is the one who came through. When you are dealing with drivers who you are paying cash to, and they are suppose to pick you up from a show...ALWAYS HAVE AT LEAST TWO OPTIONS...cause you know some chicken fucker,...ie...I grow a bunch of pot and like to just throw money at people (you are not all like that, but you know what kind of peeps I’m talking about, but I don't mind riding in his limo,) is going to come out of the show and see a limo and offer the driver some serious cash to blow the person off they were suppose to pick up and take their crew around. Instead of being pissed about shit like that, I am just always prepared, and know that even if I get two drivers, the likely hood of them finding peeps to pick up after a Panic show is very high...and yes my first driver all of a sudden stopped answering my calls...thank god for two limo drivers.***
TownCar Driver B...
I love towncar driver “B” I would only love him even more if I could smoke pot in his towncar, and yes, I probably ask him about once a month, but to be honest, I am so glad I know him, I really don’t give a flying fuck.
This guy is what a towncar driver should be.
I first met him on my way to a Katdelic concert, it was raining, I was working the merchandise table at the show and I was running late...and of course no cabs...so I flagged down anything I could from airport shuttles (they are cheap ways to get around town, trust me) to towncars. Well driver “B” stopped and I asked him how much...he said 10 bucks (this is how much a cab would cost there)...hell yes I hopped in that towncar.
I asked him if I could smoke pot in his car, he told me “no”...I just had to ask.
Well it turns out, there was some serious traffic, so homie and I just talked and I made him laugh and what now due to traffic would have been a $20 cab ride, was still a $10 towncar ride. I totally took his number.
And you know what, homie works 5 nights a week, still only charges me $10, if there is more people in the car he ups it to $15, but for just me, it is always that flat rate. He always picks me up if he can, and will even send a friend.
And he comes in handy for many reasons….
1. You can be 5 minutes late, he waits, he is your driver...no extra charge.
2. I am a BISS girl remember, so for me to see 3-4 shows a night is regular, I cannot do this if I have to try to flag a cab down on a busy weekend night when I am on time crunch. A perfect example of this is when my ladies and I went to Zigaboo, Galactic, Ivan Neville’s Dumpsterfunk, and to the Boom Boom Room for the after Galactic show with Stanton Moore. We all were BISS girls so we had free tickets to all the shows for some reason or another, I wasn’t really drinking that night, so all I had to pay for was getting my ass from show to show. We set out a plan and told towncar driver “B” what time to pick us up at each show. He charged us $10 bucks a trip and didn’t have us pay him till the end. We were able to walk out of each show, into the towncar, and jet off to the next, we caught almost each show in its entirety, our timing was perfect the whole night...none of it would have been possible if it weren’t for my most awesomeness of a driver, we tipped him $20, for a total of 60 bucks, between three ladies, that is a cheap evening out, filled with some serious music there peeps.
3. He lets me fit six in the car for a little extra. It’s a towncar, its roomy as fuck, you can put the big guy in the front, at least one fits on the floor behind the driver’s seat, and four in the back...we do it all the time, once we did it to Oakland after the Willie Nelson show at the Fillmore, we were trying to catch the David Grisman Show, we pulled up right as the show was ending, but all our friends were there so towncar driver “B” waits for us to have drinks with our friends and chat it up, then we all pile back in the towncar and head back across the bridge to the Boom Boom Room to continue the evening of music.
4. He lets me expand his musical mind. I think one of the reasons he loves me so much is because I tell him about all this music to check out and he digs it. If I have an extra ticket to a show, I offer it to him. When I went to go see John Scofield recently, I had to go to another show right after, and I realized that they had stopped checking tickets….he was going to take me to the next venue so I told him to come on in and check this shit out. Him and I stood at the back of Grace’s Cathedral on the Labyrinth in awe...he looked at me as we left and I knew he had been moved like I was...I think he appreciates me, as much as I appreciate him.
5. He has set the bar…..
Towncar Driver “C”
I first met this driver one day when I was rushing to work. I try to walk to work everyday, but I hate to be late. One day I tried to walk, but realized I was going to be late, so I was on hunt for a cab...of course, whenever I really need a cab...no cab...thank god...a towncar on the horizon. As he pulled up I asked how much to take me where I need to go opening the door....he told me $25, I laughed and closed the door.
He then rolled down his window and said, “This is a Limo, I usually charges 40 bucks, I am already giving you a discount.”
I responded with...”This is a towncar, I am a princess, and I my driver charges me $10 per ride on weekend nights, $25 at 3pm on a Tuesday is ludicrous.”
He looked me up and down and said...”Okay, you are my new VIP..anywhere you want to go...ten bucks, you can call anytime.”
I really don’t know how shit like this happens to me, but awesomeness times 11.
I then asked if I could smoke pot in his car...”No” was his answer...A girl has got to ask.
So now not only do I have a towncar driver when I need it at night, I got a daytime one too...
Whoop whoop bitches.
You know what time it is...
Let’s Dance
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
THE SWEEP...
This dance can serve many purposes...but lets get the move down first.
Hold the broom in your hand and start to sweep, broad, firm & fast strokes are the best............
And go back and make sure you cover all your ground, sweep, sweep, sweep (this is a great time to look for any “ground score” opportunities, as well as get the annoying guy that won’t stop hitting on you out of your area...sweep his ass out!) Now it is time for the dustpan, you can do one of two moves here. Either place the dustpan on your foot and use that for your leverage to collect your pile or bend over and hold the dustpan to do it and choke up on the broom. I do the later of the two moves, because, welllll.....a chance to show off my awesome ass, is a chance to show off my awesome ass...totally.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Blog 26.....Walking the Walk
Blog 26…….Walking the Walk
As I walked off a two day hangover (It was an epic week of redoing floors, working and killer shows…………Pleasure Sessions, Make a Scene, Funky Meters, Dirty Dozen, Katdelic & The Trucks Tedeschi Band) I decided to buy a chocolate old fashion…..eating and walking is my best “hangover cure”…..As I finally felt the air start to run properly through my head the more I walked the more thoughts starting swirling in my mind, as they often do when I walk……….and I thought about Walking the Walk, and not just Talking the Talk.
That shit is hard to do.
And far be it from me to stand on a soap box and preach cause I am no better at it than anyone else. I thought about how it is something we should all work on and maybe make it a goal for this week, or for this life time. Just walk the walk, forget about talking the talk…….that just leads to disappointment…..totally.
I think that is why I am so disappointed in men and have lost so much faith in them this year. And it sucks, I wanna have faith, I wanna believe.
I think that is why I am so disappointed in myself, and have been so harsh on me in recent weeks, I need to nut up and do all that shit I keep on talking about……..see sometimes I to, can be a chicken fucker…times 10.
We all need to stop fucking talking and start fucking doing……save your breath, shut the fuck up, and just do what you think you should do.
Since I have moved to the Tenderloin I have had almost a dozen men say that they love me……One of them I believe (only cause he has shown it.) My futon was old and I could not feel my legs after I slept, 3 men offered to buy me a new bed, one of them after offering twice, offered to buy me half a bed……..what the fuck, just don’t tell me you all are going to buy me a fucking bed, I’m not going to love you over a bed or not, it is not going to make a relationship, and you know who I got a freaking bed from, my mom and dad…(thank you mom and dad you rock times 10000000, I now feel my legs in the morning when I wake up) 4 boys have said they would take me to New Orleans,….never been…still, 5 boys have told me they will take me all around the world……still in the tenderloin, 10 boys have said that they want a relationship with me and want to treat me right……..I have a non-committed relationship with one off them (your all batting average sucks) One offered to pay my rent and help nurture my writing and take care of me, than was confused when I thought we were in a relationship………..why would I think that…chicken fucker.
…I just had a boy promise me all this stuff again…….and in the back of my head, I just can’t believe, because how many times do we promise shit that we never follow through with.
And the fact of the matter is, all these boys I like for who they are and not what they can do for me, but what they hold inside. If they had just shut the fuck up and been them and be honest with me, I wouldn’t be so disappointed. Because I would not expect them to do all the shit they promised.
I think I would believe……….”I will do the best that I can.” Cause that sounds fucking honest.
But who the fuck am I to be all high and mighty, I am no better, and the only way for me to get out of this funk is to nut up and do what I keep on saying I am going to do. I need to stop wasting my breath and put my thoughts to work, because that is what is really going to make me happy.
I have been talking about doing my audio-blogs, need to get on that shit, I have a band organized to do my “tenderloin, crack head dance party” with my white girl dances, why have I not gotten that shit together, I need to write a letter of apology to an old friend, I need to loose the 5lbs I want to, I need to get my shit together, I need to catch up on work, work out everyday, wake up early………..and I need to do it now!
Because while I am great at talking the talk, I am no better than anyone else at walking the walk.
I guess what I am trying to say is we should all shut the fuck up and GO act. Talking shit up is just a waste of time, and we could be using those precious minutes of life to actually act and DO the things we really want to do, and experience the life we should, and BE the kind of people we need to be.
That was my grandmother’s motto in life. (talk about a Queen)
GO-DO-BE
Go, Do something, and Become.
I want to become someone that Walks the Walk and does not just Talk the Talk.
What about you?
A friend recently told me a quote from someone, I forgot who, it was something like, “Psychedelics are a window into enlightenment, we should take what we learn during those moments and bring it back to our life and try to become what we have learned. That we should learn all those lessons that were revealed to us and try to walk the walk. Because once we stop just talking the talk, but truly Walking the Walk, we have been enlightened.”
It is time for me to shut the fuck up.
Dance Move of the Week
Got to thank my ex-husband for this one, but you got to give credit where credit is due.
THE BIRD OF PREY…….
Have you ever been at a show and smelt the stickiest of the ickiest….or that stick to every one of your fingers hash….your nose goes straight in the air and you look around feverly and you know you have got to have a hit, and you look and it is your friend, puffing down.
Well….point yourself in their direction, put your arms out wide and start to flap them up and down as you walk over letting out a “CRAWEEEEKKKKKK CRAWWKKKKLWLL” noise, swoop in (preferably to the left of the person taking a hit) and enter the circle…..by the time the dance move has been figured out you will be blowing out a hit saying
“It’s the Bird of Prey dance move.”
As I walked off a two day hangover (It was an epic week of redoing floors, working and killer shows…………Pleasure Sessions, Make a Scene, Funky Meters, Dirty Dozen, Katdelic & The Trucks Tedeschi Band) I decided to buy a chocolate old fashion…..eating and walking is my best “hangover cure”…..As I finally felt the air start to run properly through my head the more I walked the more thoughts starting swirling in my mind, as they often do when I walk……….and I thought about Walking the Walk, and not just Talking the Talk.
That shit is hard to do.
And far be it from me to stand on a soap box and preach cause I am no better at it than anyone else. I thought about how it is something we should all work on and maybe make it a goal for this week, or for this life time. Just walk the walk, forget about talking the talk…….that just leads to disappointment…..totally.
I think that is why I am so disappointed in men and have lost so much faith in them this year. And it sucks, I wanna have faith, I wanna believe.
I think that is why I am so disappointed in myself, and have been so harsh on me in recent weeks, I need to nut up and do all that shit I keep on talking about……..see sometimes I to, can be a chicken fucker…times 10.
We all need to stop fucking talking and start fucking doing……save your breath, shut the fuck up, and just do what you think you should do.
Since I have moved to the Tenderloin I have had almost a dozen men say that they love me……One of them I believe (only cause he has shown it.) My futon was old and I could not feel my legs after I slept, 3 men offered to buy me a new bed, one of them after offering twice, offered to buy me half a bed……..what the fuck, just don’t tell me you all are going to buy me a fucking bed, I’m not going to love you over a bed or not, it is not going to make a relationship, and you know who I got a freaking bed from, my mom and dad…(thank you mom and dad you rock times 10000000, I now feel my legs in the morning when I wake up) 4 boys have said they would take me to New Orleans,….never been…still, 5 boys have told me they will take me all around the world……still in the tenderloin, 10 boys have said that they want a relationship with me and want to treat me right……..I have a non-committed relationship with one off them (your all batting average sucks) One offered to pay my rent and help nurture my writing and take care of me, than was confused when I thought we were in a relationship………..why would I think that…chicken fucker.
…I just had a boy promise me all this stuff again…….and in the back of my head, I just can’t believe, because how many times do we promise shit that we never follow through with.
And the fact of the matter is, all these boys I like for who they are and not what they can do for me, but what they hold inside. If they had just shut the fuck up and been them and be honest with me, I wouldn’t be so disappointed. Because I would not expect them to do all the shit they promised.
I think I would believe……….”I will do the best that I can.” Cause that sounds fucking honest.
But who the fuck am I to be all high and mighty, I am no better, and the only way for me to get out of this funk is to nut up and do what I keep on saying I am going to do. I need to stop wasting my breath and put my thoughts to work, because that is what is really going to make me happy.
I have been talking about doing my audio-blogs, need to get on that shit, I have a band organized to do my “tenderloin, crack head dance party” with my white girl dances, why have I not gotten that shit together, I need to write a letter of apology to an old friend, I need to loose the 5lbs I want to, I need to get my shit together, I need to catch up on work, work out everyday, wake up early………..and I need to do it now!
Because while I am great at talking the talk, I am no better than anyone else at walking the walk.
I guess what I am trying to say is we should all shut the fuck up and GO act. Talking shit up is just a waste of time, and we could be using those precious minutes of life to actually act and DO the things we really want to do, and experience the life we should, and BE the kind of people we need to be.
That was my grandmother’s motto in life. (talk about a Queen)
GO-DO-BE
Go, Do something, and Become.
I want to become someone that Walks the Walk and does not just Talk the Talk.
What about you?
A friend recently told me a quote from someone, I forgot who, it was something like, “Psychedelics are a window into enlightenment, we should take what we learn during those moments and bring it back to our life and try to become what we have learned. That we should learn all those lessons that were revealed to us and try to walk the walk. Because once we stop just talking the talk, but truly Walking the Walk, we have been enlightened.”
It is time for me to shut the fuck up.
Dance Move of the Week
Got to thank my ex-husband for this one, but you got to give credit where credit is due.
THE BIRD OF PREY…….
Have you ever been at a show and smelt the stickiest of the ickiest….or that stick to every one of your fingers hash….your nose goes straight in the air and you look around feverly and you know you have got to have a hit, and you look and it is your friend, puffing down.
Well….point yourself in their direction, put your arms out wide and start to flap them up and down as you walk over letting out a “CRAWEEEEKKKKKK CRAWWKKKKLWLL” noise, swoop in (preferably to the left of the person taking a hit) and enter the circle…..by the time the dance move has been figured out you will be blowing out a hit saying
“It’s the Bird of Prey dance move.”
Friday, May 20, 2011
Blog 25......Music is my Church
Blog 25……Music is my Church…….
Ladies and Gentlemen, did you see the preacher last night? He walked upon the stage and paced as his music emulated from his guitar, a sneer on his face, almost unable to comprehend the notes that his hands created, releasing them from his body with a vulgar elegance. Dispersing high-pitched notes that flowed like a river. And more preachers were on the stage……but instead of one being right or wrong, they were all right, and whether they let one stand out or became a collective beat…….the message was clear……..
A sermon was to be had.
I felt a current inside my blood, as each note hit, waves of sound went through my body, moving it in ways I had no control of, each note caused a twist, a turn, a shake….I felt the music through every pore and as each note left my body, I let it role off my fingertips and felt the next brimming in my feet.
As it continued I found myself in heaven. I had closed my eyes as the horn played and I was on a riverboat, sailing along, listening to the river rock my soul……….see that is my idea of heaven…..and last night, I saw it.
I often tell a musician I have just seen play,
“Thank You for taking me to Church….”
And I mean it.
I am not a fan of pushing my beliefs on anyone, and simply live my life and expect everyone else to do the same……………
So I will only state how I feel.
Faith is a hard thing to accomplish, and it is something I have lost many times along the path…….but music is the one thing that has always given me faith, and it is the one thing that has never let me down.
Because………….
As long as there is movement, there is sound.
As long as I am here breathing there will be a sound with it, and it will be part of the song that is my life.
And knowing that something is a constant, makes it a lot easier for me to have faith.
Music is my religion because we all have a beat, we can either bounce along by ourselves or meet more beats along the way and create an orchestra.
Everyone we meet is a beat, a note, and can hit one person one way, and another person a whole new way. But they are still moved.
There is a beat to every aspect of life, we just have to find it.
When I hear music, I close my eyes and let the beat take my body away. And in that moment when I feel my mind go blank and the waves of sound rush through me…….I feel enlightened. The notes marry in my head, taking me to the next level of consciousness, like electricity running through my body, clarifying everything. And through out moments in my day I urn for that moment again, the feeling of weightlessness………the clarity of just the beat.
And in my church, there are different sects and beliefs, and they don’t always mesh the same, but they still move your body in one way, shape or form. As well as, one preacher always respects the other. Instead of fighting for who is right, they let the other step forward and give his beat, and they build off of that. They bring all their beets together and create a song.
And you see it in their faces when they realize what they have just accomplished, the grin, the nod, the helllllzzzzzzz yeah look in their eyes.
And as a member of the congregation, I feel it too, a stupid smile comes over my face, the ohhhh yeahhh feeling encompasses me, and I let the music play my body. And I see it in others, the beat moving them, their arms raised, shouting, yelling, grooving………I see them being taken away.
And when it ends, I feel cleansed, as pure as the notes that just penetrated my being.
I leave with a clear mind and a subdued soul, the beat never stops, I just have to remember that its exists.
It is there, always encouraging me to make a song….and the beat of the song, is just something I have to listen for.
DANCE OF THE WEEK
Find your beat.
Either go find live music or put on a song, close your eyes, start to feel it in the base of your feet, and let it all go………the beauty of the beat…… is freedom.
*I have always said….”you can be upset about shit, or you can choose to boogie…….
I CHOOSE TO BOOGIE”
At least that is the name of my song.*
Amen
Ladies and Gentlemen, did you see the preacher last night? He walked upon the stage and paced as his music emulated from his guitar, a sneer on his face, almost unable to comprehend the notes that his hands created, releasing them from his body with a vulgar elegance. Dispersing high-pitched notes that flowed like a river. And more preachers were on the stage……but instead of one being right or wrong, they were all right, and whether they let one stand out or became a collective beat…….the message was clear……..
A sermon was to be had.
I felt a current inside my blood, as each note hit, waves of sound went through my body, moving it in ways I had no control of, each note caused a twist, a turn, a shake….I felt the music through every pore and as each note left my body, I let it role off my fingertips and felt the next brimming in my feet.
As it continued I found myself in heaven. I had closed my eyes as the horn played and I was on a riverboat, sailing along, listening to the river rock my soul……….see that is my idea of heaven…..and last night, I saw it.
I often tell a musician I have just seen play,
“Thank You for taking me to Church….”
And I mean it.
I am not a fan of pushing my beliefs on anyone, and simply live my life and expect everyone else to do the same……………
So I will only state how I feel.
Faith is a hard thing to accomplish, and it is something I have lost many times along the path…….but music is the one thing that has always given me faith, and it is the one thing that has never let me down.
Because………….
As long as there is movement, there is sound.
As long as I am here breathing there will be a sound with it, and it will be part of the song that is my life.
And knowing that something is a constant, makes it a lot easier for me to have faith.
Music is my religion because we all have a beat, we can either bounce along by ourselves or meet more beats along the way and create an orchestra.
Everyone we meet is a beat, a note, and can hit one person one way, and another person a whole new way. But they are still moved.
There is a beat to every aspect of life, we just have to find it.
When I hear music, I close my eyes and let the beat take my body away. And in that moment when I feel my mind go blank and the waves of sound rush through me…….I feel enlightened. The notes marry in my head, taking me to the next level of consciousness, like electricity running through my body, clarifying everything. And through out moments in my day I urn for that moment again, the feeling of weightlessness………the clarity of just the beat.
And in my church, there are different sects and beliefs, and they don’t always mesh the same, but they still move your body in one way, shape or form. As well as, one preacher always respects the other. Instead of fighting for who is right, they let the other step forward and give his beat, and they build off of that. They bring all their beets together and create a song.
And you see it in their faces when they realize what they have just accomplished, the grin, the nod, the helllllzzzzzzz yeah look in their eyes.
And as a member of the congregation, I feel it too, a stupid smile comes over my face, the ohhhh yeahhh feeling encompasses me, and I let the music play my body. And I see it in others, the beat moving them, their arms raised, shouting, yelling, grooving………I see them being taken away.
And when it ends, I feel cleansed, as pure as the notes that just penetrated my being.
I leave with a clear mind and a subdued soul, the beat never stops, I just have to remember that its exists.
It is there, always encouraging me to make a song….and the beat of the song, is just something I have to listen for.
DANCE OF THE WEEK
Find your beat.
Either go find live music or put on a song, close your eyes, start to feel it in the base of your feet, and let it all go………the beauty of the beat…… is freedom.
*I have always said….”you can be upset about shit, or you can choose to boogie…….
I CHOOSE TO BOOGIE”
At least that is the name of my song.*
Amen
Monday, May 16, 2011
Blog 24.....(Part II) Dating Diaries.....ahhhhhhhhhhh
Blog 24……(Part II) Dating Diaries……ahhhhhhhh
So having taken one small step back into the dating world, I am running back to the safety of “dating restriction” and while I won’t talk about the most recent (that is rude) a bad date always reminds you of worse dates....when is there going to be a good one…..grumble, grumble……..alright, lets recall.
(dating diaries part one is blog 7)
Date 4….This was one of the first dates that I encountered when moving back to the city, I was set up by a friend. She was like, “I have this man, you have to meet him, he loves music and is a professor at Berkley.”….so totally I was in.
So the gentleman contacts me and wants to go to dinner and a show, this was off to a good start. I met him at a restaurant, that he had chosen for location……
Anyhoo….
I meet him at dinner, he seems nice, he stood as I sat, which I thought was quite nice. Then I started to ask him what he teaches about and what he does….
I think the second sentence out of his mouth was that he was a millionaire and was working on a book. I asked him what I cared about which was the book…
He responded with,
“I am writing a book about how computers have souls.”
This was the moment that huge firecrackers and whistles started to go off behind his head, oddly enough, I was the only one distracted.
Homie was not distracted, he spent the entire dinner talking about how computers have souls and their wave lengths and how they are going to take over…..I was starting to get scared, naturally I started to drink.
No dessert….I had to vacate the talking portion of this date asap. (and he had not let me talk the entire dinner, it was all about the computer soul thing……..oh and I know nothing about computers...I was so lost)
The check came, I being polite, asked the millionaire who had invited me out, if I could contribute. That chicken fucker said yes. (don’t ask a fucking girl out to dinner and than tell her to pay….I might have to pull out a “goat fucker” for this one.) So he had put out his card….I told him I would take care of the tip and put 20 dollars down….I was not going to let him get out of paying for dinner, which was $80.
He asked if I needed change for the tip, I told him I did not, that was my tip.
Chicken Fucker than tells me that is to much to tip and I should put at least $5.00 back.
What I told him and What I didn’t tell him……….
I said, “Look around this restaurant, it is Tuesday, this lady has 4 tables, my twenty bucks will help this lady out, and she might take it and go spend it somewhere else, which helps someone else out. I used to own a restaurant, I live on tips, I am going to tip this lady $20……..let’s go.”
I didn’t say but thought….
Is this chicken fucker for real….give me shit for how much I tip, well than pay for the whole fucking thing, you are the one who is a millionaire and while computers have souls, you my friend, are fucking empty……
***sunny dating note***
I judge a man by how he tips. If you don’t tip good, we don’t date. I have not gone on second dates with many a man because of their cheapness when it comes to tipping. We should give to everyone as much as possible, tipping is one of those things, it oils the wheels of life, and a man who is to selfish to tip is to selfish for a woman like me.
So the date ended with him asking if I wanted to smoke some pot, hell yes…..then he pulled out a joint that looked like it was from Iowa (I could barely see it) We are in California peeps, this guy has money, why the fuck am I smoking more paper than herb from this toothpick he called a joint. He tried to kiss me, I fled, I ran into the show, it was pop music, I told him I thought the joint got me too high, (tee hee hee) and was off like a woman with no soul…..
Date 5….This date started as a friend, and he opened doors and paid for stuff and tipped great, so when he asked me out, I naturally said yes.
Once again ladies and gentleman, a herb grower from Oakland that drives a massive truck they can not park in the city……we know my rant, so I will let it go, but come on, do you really need a truck that beeps when you back it up. So we decided to do the wander and look for food (my favorite) except dude didn’t get it, the first place we saw, he was like, “lets just do this” which totally killed the excitement of the wander, but I was game.
He then proceed to tell me how much he could not stand the city and was trying to find land. The city was too much, too dark for him.
You are talking about my freaking home bitch, this is where I was born and raised, where I choose to live. My city is full of light and color and awesomeness, what the hell was he seeing....I began to drink…I told him he should notice all the different kinds of tiles the restaurant had kicking, he asked what the point of that was…..more drinking on my part.
I couple minutes later we somehow got to lessons I had learned from my father (I do not remember how we got to that point in the conversation, did I mention I was drinking) Anyhoo…I gave him the old, “Daddy said it is better to be kind than to be right.”
He shook his head and said……“No, No, I am always right.”
I looked him dead in the eye and responded, “TOTALLY”
My brain at that very moment was making a mental note that stated to never go on a date with this man again.
He is always right…and my ass is small.
Thank god he knew how to tip.
Date 6…..This was a date with a man that was in a big band, that toured all over and blah, blah, blah, blah……Anyhoo, I met him at a show and he said that he had to see me again, that my dancing moved him.
So he called the next day and said he had to take me out to lunch, who am I to turn down a free meal. He let me pick, which was nice, and he buttered my bread, which really turned me on to be truthful.
So why is this date in my diaries….because I spent the entire lunch, not talking, but watching homie’s videos of himself on his Iphone. I do not need to see you on stage for an hour and half on a freaking phone screen…tell me who your are, what you love, ask about me and what I love. Because what I don’t love is hanging out with someone so self absorbed that they think I am going to fuck them because they play music on a fucking stage in front of a butt load of people.
A date is about getting to know each other, not showing off, it is about enjoying each other, not staring at a tiny phone screen…..and how many times has homie watched these videos of himself….you know I do pretty cool shit too, I’m interesting as fuck, I was on the date too….I wonder if he noticed….
And some people wonder why I’m on dating restriction…..hahahahahahaha
I guess its back to my comfy bubble, but honestly, it does get quite lonely sometimes, such is the life of a princess.
At least I will always have me, and remember peeps...me is awesomeness.
Dance Move of the Week
MY ANKLE HURTS
Now this is bringing it back…..and the move is owe so simply…remember though, balance is key, so if you are off quilter you might want to hold off.
Bend your Knee, grab your ankle and start to hop, old school style, and repeat out loud..…”my ankle, my ankle, my ankle….”
Instant hit.
So having taken one small step back into the dating world, I am running back to the safety of “dating restriction” and while I won’t talk about the most recent (that is rude) a bad date always reminds you of worse dates....when is there going to be a good one…..grumble, grumble……..alright, lets recall.
(dating diaries part one is blog 7)
Date 4….This was one of the first dates that I encountered when moving back to the city, I was set up by a friend. She was like, “I have this man, you have to meet him, he loves music and is a professor at Berkley.”….so totally I was in.
So the gentleman contacts me and wants to go to dinner and a show, this was off to a good start. I met him at a restaurant, that he had chosen for location……
Anyhoo….
I meet him at dinner, he seems nice, he stood as I sat, which I thought was quite nice. Then I started to ask him what he teaches about and what he does….
I think the second sentence out of his mouth was that he was a millionaire and was working on a book. I asked him what I cared about which was the book…
He responded with,
“I am writing a book about how computers have souls.”
This was the moment that huge firecrackers and whistles started to go off behind his head, oddly enough, I was the only one distracted.
Homie was not distracted, he spent the entire dinner talking about how computers have souls and their wave lengths and how they are going to take over…..I was starting to get scared, naturally I started to drink.
No dessert….I had to vacate the talking portion of this date asap. (and he had not let me talk the entire dinner, it was all about the computer soul thing……..oh and I know nothing about computers...I was so lost)
The check came, I being polite, asked the millionaire who had invited me out, if I could contribute. That chicken fucker said yes. (don’t ask a fucking girl out to dinner and than tell her to pay….I might have to pull out a “goat fucker” for this one.) So he had put out his card….I told him I would take care of the tip and put 20 dollars down….I was not going to let him get out of paying for dinner, which was $80.
He asked if I needed change for the tip, I told him I did not, that was my tip.
Chicken Fucker than tells me that is to much to tip and I should put at least $5.00 back.
What I told him and What I didn’t tell him……….
I said, “Look around this restaurant, it is Tuesday, this lady has 4 tables, my twenty bucks will help this lady out, and she might take it and go spend it somewhere else, which helps someone else out. I used to own a restaurant, I live on tips, I am going to tip this lady $20……..let’s go.”
I didn’t say but thought….
Is this chicken fucker for real….give me shit for how much I tip, well than pay for the whole fucking thing, you are the one who is a millionaire and while computers have souls, you my friend, are fucking empty……
***sunny dating note***
I judge a man by how he tips. If you don’t tip good, we don’t date. I have not gone on second dates with many a man because of their cheapness when it comes to tipping. We should give to everyone as much as possible, tipping is one of those things, it oils the wheels of life, and a man who is to selfish to tip is to selfish for a woman like me.
So the date ended with him asking if I wanted to smoke some pot, hell yes…..then he pulled out a joint that looked like it was from Iowa (I could barely see it) We are in California peeps, this guy has money, why the fuck am I smoking more paper than herb from this toothpick he called a joint. He tried to kiss me, I fled, I ran into the show, it was pop music, I told him I thought the joint got me too high, (tee hee hee) and was off like a woman with no soul…..
Date 5….This date started as a friend, and he opened doors and paid for stuff and tipped great, so when he asked me out, I naturally said yes.
Once again ladies and gentleman, a herb grower from Oakland that drives a massive truck they can not park in the city……we know my rant, so I will let it go, but come on, do you really need a truck that beeps when you back it up. So we decided to do the wander and look for food (my favorite) except dude didn’t get it, the first place we saw, he was like, “lets just do this” which totally killed the excitement of the wander, but I was game.
He then proceed to tell me how much he could not stand the city and was trying to find land. The city was too much, too dark for him.
You are talking about my freaking home bitch, this is where I was born and raised, where I choose to live. My city is full of light and color and awesomeness, what the hell was he seeing....I began to drink…I told him he should notice all the different kinds of tiles the restaurant had kicking, he asked what the point of that was…..more drinking on my part.
I couple minutes later we somehow got to lessons I had learned from my father (I do not remember how we got to that point in the conversation, did I mention I was drinking) Anyhoo…I gave him the old, “Daddy said it is better to be kind than to be right.”
He shook his head and said……“No, No, I am always right.”
I looked him dead in the eye and responded, “TOTALLY”
My brain at that very moment was making a mental note that stated to never go on a date with this man again.
He is always right…and my ass is small.
Thank god he knew how to tip.
Date 6…..This was a date with a man that was in a big band, that toured all over and blah, blah, blah, blah……Anyhoo, I met him at a show and he said that he had to see me again, that my dancing moved him.
So he called the next day and said he had to take me out to lunch, who am I to turn down a free meal. He let me pick, which was nice, and he buttered my bread, which really turned me on to be truthful.
So why is this date in my diaries….because I spent the entire lunch, not talking, but watching homie’s videos of himself on his Iphone. I do not need to see you on stage for an hour and half on a freaking phone screen…tell me who your are, what you love, ask about me and what I love. Because what I don’t love is hanging out with someone so self absorbed that they think I am going to fuck them because they play music on a fucking stage in front of a butt load of people.
A date is about getting to know each other, not showing off, it is about enjoying each other, not staring at a tiny phone screen…..and how many times has homie watched these videos of himself….you know I do pretty cool shit too, I’m interesting as fuck, I was on the date too….I wonder if he noticed….
And some people wonder why I’m on dating restriction…..hahahahahahaha
I guess its back to my comfy bubble, but honestly, it does get quite lonely sometimes, such is the life of a princess.
At least I will always have me, and remember peeps...me is awesomeness.
Dance Move of the Week
MY ANKLE HURTS
Now this is bringing it back…..and the move is owe so simply…remember though, balance is key, so if you are off quilter you might want to hold off.
Bend your Knee, grab your ankle and start to hop, old school style, and repeat out loud..…”my ankle, my ankle, my ankle….”
Instant hit.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Blog 23....WHAT IS PSYCHEDELIC
Blog 23…….What is psychedelic……
You know with my loaded ass, I ask myself this question quite often.
Like the other night, I was at a show and some ding dong comes up and starts doing the grabbing dance. (just cause you play drums on a freakin stage does not mean you can fucking grab me bro.) Now what is psychedelic about that is……………if he had only read my fucking blog (the one I wrote the day before I met him)….he would have known and approached better…..see another reason why more people should be reading my fucking blog….…jeezzzzz.
I first learned the answer to the question…
What is Psychedelic……on a very fateful day.
When I lived in Eugene, a great man passed. I had the privilege to go to Ken Kesey’s funeral. It was epicness in a moment. The whole day transformed my life in many ways (some I will touch on in blogs to come.)
I went with my uncle, I remember sitting next to him when Ken Babbs was speaking….he was recapping how he and Ken Kesey had explained what psychedelic is to one of their moms on a trip in the Willamette National Forest…..it went something like this……….
”Psychedelic is everywhere, it is life, it is in how many shades of green are in this forest, in the fact that the sun rises and sets” ……he then said they saw a snake in the road, and a hawk swooped down to eat it and the car hit the hawk and they turned to her and said… “Now that is psychedelic”
As I left the funeral and watched the Merry Pranksters load his casket into their bus, my uncle and I stood side by side, when the bus went under the Oak St Bridge less than half a block away, a rainbow arched across the sky. I turned to my uncle and said, “Now that is psychedelic.”
I was pretty consumed with stupid stuff at that point in my life….and put in the back of my head what had happened and what I had learned….I was saving it for a better day.
Right before I left Eugene, I went on a late night butt walk. As I closed the door to my car a deer jetted across the street, followed by a possum making odd noises, probably cause a raccoon was humping it…..behind the trio a cat ran, its belly “skirt” swinging from side to side. I leaned against my car door and the thought popped into my head, “Now that is Psychedelic.”
As I began to re-evaluate my life and what I was doing with it more of these realizations formed in my head……
See peeps, everything is psychedelic….LIFE IS PSYCHEDELIC…..we can find it in every thought and every action to reaction.
The fact that I normally rush to run across the street and the day I saw a lady get hit and killed by a bus 5 feet in front of me…is the day I decided not to run across the street….I was tired from debauchery the night before…..that one made me think.
The fact that I go to a place I consider home, The Boom Boom Room to see one of my favorite bands…(Juno what they could be) and my ex-husband’s best friend is playing bass in the opening band, and the sudden rush that I am still not over the collapse of my marriage, and I am still hurt, how one person can make you remember so much pain….how small the world is….that is psychedelic.
The fact that an earthquake and a wave can change a people’s way of life…….is psychedelic.
The fact that someone can meet someone for a split second and have them alter their path in an instant or that we can have a friend that we have known since we were 3 years of age and we have a comfort with them we have with no one else……….
The fact that in one hemisphere the toilet water goes one way, and in the other it goes the other way…..I still don’t get that fucking one.
That people who read my blog feel that they can tell me I wrote stuff that was to dirty and think i give a flying fuck.....that is psychedelic.
The idea that someone as love filled as myself, full of hope and optimism……is a true pessimist when it comes to matters of my heart…….is psychedelic.
The fact that people die, our friends, our family, our dearest members of our heart……and we still find the strength to move on…….
That life is full off such tragedy and pain but full of such light and awesomeness...
The fact that sound is the direct reaction to movement.
The visual amazement I get every time I go to a show and see people dancing to music. That music moves them to move themselves is psychedelic in every way and I love it.
That a thought, a song, a person, a place….has the ability to move us to tears.
The fact that I spent years of my life unhappy and unconfident in myself is psychedelic.
I guess what I am trying to say I have learned…..
Is that….LIFE IS PSYCHEDELIC…..
When we can really tune into that, we might start letting go of our worries and fears. Things happen because they happen, we see and meet people for a reason, that the lessons we learn in life help us see things in a better light, that there are many different shades of light.
What ever happens when we pass this life……I’m pretty damm sure is psychedelic as a mother fucker to.
We shouldn’t waste time trying to figure out all the details of why and how….we should just enjoy…and realize some things we can’t explain…….
But we sure can enjoy the colors.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
Making the Coffee
(even thought I can’t drink coffee anymore, I still remember how the dance goes)
So you get yourself out of bed, maybe a stretch is called for. Alright, shuffle to the kitchen, grab the coffee, I always smell (you should know this by now) ahhhhh, even the smell wakes you up. Now dump the old filter, put the new one in, make sure it is not going to fold over and get grounds in your coffee…alright, scoop the coffee in…now fill up the water….turn it on…..are you going to wait…..not me, I hop back into bed and usually pull the covers all the way up over my head and give myself a little snugglet….cause five more minutes of sleep is five more minutes of sleep…..crap I slept in…..chicken fucker.
You know with my loaded ass, I ask myself this question quite often.
Like the other night, I was at a show and some ding dong comes up and starts doing the grabbing dance. (just cause you play drums on a freakin stage does not mean you can fucking grab me bro.) Now what is psychedelic about that is……………if he had only read my fucking blog (the one I wrote the day before I met him)….he would have known and approached better…..see another reason why more people should be reading my fucking blog….…jeezzzzz.
I first learned the answer to the question…
What is Psychedelic……on a very fateful day.
When I lived in Eugene, a great man passed. I had the privilege to go to Ken Kesey’s funeral. It was epicness in a moment. The whole day transformed my life in many ways (some I will touch on in blogs to come.)
I went with my uncle, I remember sitting next to him when Ken Babbs was speaking….he was recapping how he and Ken Kesey had explained what psychedelic is to one of their moms on a trip in the Willamette National Forest…..it went something like this……….
”Psychedelic is everywhere, it is life, it is in how many shades of green are in this forest, in the fact that the sun rises and sets” ……he then said they saw a snake in the road, and a hawk swooped down to eat it and the car hit the hawk and they turned to her and said… “Now that is psychedelic”
As I left the funeral and watched the Merry Pranksters load his casket into their bus, my uncle and I stood side by side, when the bus went under the Oak St Bridge less than half a block away, a rainbow arched across the sky. I turned to my uncle and said, “Now that is psychedelic.”
I was pretty consumed with stupid stuff at that point in my life….and put in the back of my head what had happened and what I had learned….I was saving it for a better day.
Right before I left Eugene, I went on a late night butt walk. As I closed the door to my car a deer jetted across the street, followed by a possum making odd noises, probably cause a raccoon was humping it…..behind the trio a cat ran, its belly “skirt” swinging from side to side. I leaned against my car door and the thought popped into my head, “Now that is Psychedelic.”
As I began to re-evaluate my life and what I was doing with it more of these realizations formed in my head……
See peeps, everything is psychedelic….LIFE IS PSYCHEDELIC…..we can find it in every thought and every action to reaction.
The fact that I normally rush to run across the street and the day I saw a lady get hit and killed by a bus 5 feet in front of me…is the day I decided not to run across the street….I was tired from debauchery the night before…..that one made me think.
The fact that I go to a place I consider home, The Boom Boom Room to see one of my favorite bands…(Juno what they could be) and my ex-husband’s best friend is playing bass in the opening band, and the sudden rush that I am still not over the collapse of my marriage, and I am still hurt, how one person can make you remember so much pain….how small the world is….that is psychedelic.
The fact that an earthquake and a wave can change a people’s way of life…….is psychedelic.
The fact that someone can meet someone for a split second and have them alter their path in an instant or that we can have a friend that we have known since we were 3 years of age and we have a comfort with them we have with no one else……….
The fact that in one hemisphere the toilet water goes one way, and in the other it goes the other way…..I still don’t get that fucking one.
That people who read my blog feel that they can tell me I wrote stuff that was to dirty and think i give a flying fuck.....that is psychedelic.
The idea that someone as love filled as myself, full of hope and optimism……is a true pessimist when it comes to matters of my heart…….is psychedelic.
The fact that people die, our friends, our family, our dearest members of our heart……and we still find the strength to move on…….
That life is full off such tragedy and pain but full of such light and awesomeness...
The fact that sound is the direct reaction to movement.
The visual amazement I get every time I go to a show and see people dancing to music. That music moves them to move themselves is psychedelic in every way and I love it.
That a thought, a song, a person, a place….has the ability to move us to tears.
The fact that I spent years of my life unhappy and unconfident in myself is psychedelic.
I guess what I am trying to say I have learned…..
Is that….LIFE IS PSYCHEDELIC…..
When we can really tune into that, we might start letting go of our worries and fears. Things happen because they happen, we see and meet people for a reason, that the lessons we learn in life help us see things in a better light, that there are many different shades of light.
What ever happens when we pass this life……I’m pretty damm sure is psychedelic as a mother fucker to.
We shouldn’t waste time trying to figure out all the details of why and how….we should just enjoy…and realize some things we can’t explain…….
But we sure can enjoy the colors.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
Making the Coffee
(even thought I can’t drink coffee anymore, I still remember how the dance goes)
So you get yourself out of bed, maybe a stretch is called for. Alright, shuffle to the kitchen, grab the coffee, I always smell (you should know this by now) ahhhhh, even the smell wakes you up. Now dump the old filter, put the new one in, make sure it is not going to fold over and get grounds in your coffee…alright, scoop the coffee in…now fill up the water….turn it on…..are you going to wait…..not me, I hop back into bed and usually pull the covers all the way up over my head and give myself a little snugglet….cause five more minutes of sleep is five more minutes of sleep…..crap I slept in…..chicken fucker.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Blog 22.....(PART II) 22+ more fucking things about this princess
Blog 22.....(PART II) 22+ more fucking things about this princess
I told you all there was more, you just didn’t think I’d be so quick with it.
Here it goes…….
22. I am pee shy like a motherfucker….stop giggling, I am fucking serious. I pretty much always have to turn the sink faucet on so I can pee, even when I’m by myself. If I am loaded on psychedelics than times that times 10. My ex-husband became pee shy after an experience at the Oregon Country Fair...he came up with a song that helps when I’m in a porto-potty at festivals, with no sink near. So if you all are at a festival and you walk by the Honey Buckets and hear…..”Shout, shout, let it all, these are the things you can do without...Come on...” Its probably me.
23. I was a member of the “Banana Slug Kissing” club in summer camp…
we to had a song…….”BANANA, BANANANANANAN, BANANA, BANANANANAANANANANAN……slug” They are slimy, like free moisturizer for your lips.
24. Speaking of which, I am addicted to Vaseline. Have you all ever watched that movie “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” well, remember the dad’s addiction to Windex…..my obsession with Vaseline is similar. I believe it is the cure all-end all. From burns, to chapped lips, calluses, to cleaning the inside of a bowl, slipping a tight ring off, polishing wood (I mean real wood here peeps, its like a “pledge” consistency, get your mind out of the gutter……mine goes there to.) Anyhoo…just try it next time for what the fuck ever….it works, but please get your mind out of the gutter…sheeesh.
25. I have over 600+ cassette tapes that I still listen to. You have been to a DEAD show, come find it in my collection and remember the good ole days.
26. I have no idea how to download music, my computer is old as hell, I pretty much know how to check my email, which I suck at, facebook, and I figured out my blog stuff….kind of.
27. My psoriasis has made my stomach a little polka dot scarred. I love it now….it has personality, and it has encouraged me to get my six pack back…cause a six pack with personality………HELLO NURSE……I also have a small bit left on one ass cheek, I have told a boy, “that’s the spank mark the last boy left.”
28. I cannot whistle.
29. I make a mean ass fried chicken……… Macadamia Nut-Buttered Corn Flake crusted Chicken with and Orange-Rhubarb-Honey-BBQ Glaze, whipped yams, collared greens with pancetta & black-eyed peas, little hits of lemon, accompanied by cornbread with citrus-honey-butter & yellow corn sautéed with heirloom tomatoes and red onions, and of course, Sweet Tea. Put your jaw back up bitches, I told you all I was the shit a long time ago.
30. When I was married, I could not cook for nothing….one day my ex-husband even threw away the dinner I cooked. I never cooked again, Until I left him. Then I just started, and I learned to trust my palate……..people fall in love with me cause of my cooking, my ass can cook……..it just needed confidence.
31. I didn’t have confidence in myself as a woman till about a year ago. When I moved to the Tenderloin. Maybe that is one of the reasons I feel so blessed to live here. Growing up I always felt fat, weird and ugly. When I met my husband, I thought the fact that he liked me was good enough. I never really felt attractive till I moved to the city and out on my own. Now I might be overly confident…but I don’t give a flying fuck, I feel like I have earned it.
32. I recently went and saw John Scofield play at Grace’s Cathedral………it was a solo show, he was nervous…..I went all by myself, I sat down and started to cry and shivers ran down my spine. I was simply moved beyond belief.
33. I love going to shows by myself. I do it all the time. I know enough people that I can just walk every bit and run into someone and chill, smoke and dance, and then move on, not have to deal with anyone’s shit but my own, which is enough. And I really like just dancing by myself, I have no worries about that. I load my pipe up and just groove.
34. I am a solo dancer. Have you read my freakin moves, ain’t no way some man can come up and get all dirty with me….I am trying to bake some fucking cookies here peeps.
35. In fact, that is one of my biggest turn offs, when a man sees me grooving and comes and starts touching me and gets all in my space...offer me a freakin joint, do not start grabbing me, I don’t fucking know you...introduce yourself, pay me a compliment, do not grab, that is fucking rude.
36. Sometimes I think...”I am too much woman for any man.”....a man confirmed that once...he said the exact same thing than said he would be honored to be one of my husbands…tee hee hee. But the reality of the situation is I think I am destined to be alone, and I am starting to come to terms with that and deal.
37. Sometimes I turn on streets that I know are rougher than others, or take the short way home even though I know I might see trouble...Trouble doesn’t scare me..It just makes me feel tougher. And I encourage myself to be as bad ass as I can.
38. I give awesome head. Crap did I just write that, and yet I’m not surprised.
39. I always walk on the sunny side of the street...It just feels better.
40. I have done nothing with my BA in History from the University of Oregon, nothing.
41. On average...give or take, I go to about 6 music shows a week.
42. I believe that there should be music on during love making (if possible) I like it when I can make love to the music and the man.
43. About a year and a half ago, I hooked up with this older musician, who some people might sneer at. He is burly, he wears overalls, is wrong, but let me tell you, he changed me. I knew a relationship was never wanted on either of our parts, just a good time. He told me I was his “Ophelia.” We hung out for five days, I broke four headboards, I really learned to let go…now, unless it just sucks, I come at least 3-5 times every time I have sex. I have no idea why or how…but awesomeness times a 100, totally….ahhhhhh fuck…another 100 and some snaps.
44. I am or have been a barista, bartender, caretaker, cashier, caterer, designer, dressmaker, housewife, manager, personal assistant, personal trainer, Pot Grower, Promoter, Publicist, real estate assistant, restaurateur, secretary, server & a space traveler...oh don’t forget about me being a ball of positivity...totally
45. I am scared shitless of not reaching my potential.
46. Good music turns me on, a lot. I bring spare panties to most ‘good’ shows….Warren Haynes shows, I bring like 3 pairs, with his new line up….we are looking at a 6 panty show.
47. I am one tuff ass woman and one very weak ass woman…..a very funny woman and a very serious woman……a very positive woman and a very realistic woman….I am by choice a very independent woman and I long to be taken care of….I love to rest but hate to stay still.….I am a true Gemini.
48. Good music gives me goose bumps……all over.
49. Sometimes I think, “I am the luckiest girl in the World.” For the sheer fact that I know the true power and light within me, but I am utterly terrified to release it.
50. Now you really think I would give you all 50….shut the front door…I got to leave something to the imagination….besides, you all know there is so much more……………..
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
STUFFING THE TURKEY….
I know its not Thanksgiving, but turkey is turkey, and that shit tastes good….so let review the dance.
First you got to pick up a bit of stuffing with your fingers from the bowl….taste….hmmm, a bit more salt…okay now, cut the little thingys that are holding the legs together and spread the legs….(damm it, for the last time, get your minds out of the gutter…tee hee hee.) Now go in there and grab the innards….all right this is getting pretty gutter worthy….anyhoo…..so make sure you got all the innards out and it is nice and clean….you can feed your innards to the dog or put them in a bowl for another day. Now start stuffing that turkey, putting handfuls of stuffing in the turkey and patting it down and making sure it is nice and tight. When it is all stuffed and tight, give it one more pat and bring the legs down….it is ready to cook….it might need to be brined with butter…..but we can’t go there…..that would just be dirty dancing.
Now in the oven it goes....
Gosh, I may need a spare pair of panties for this dance.
I told you all there was more, you just didn’t think I’d be so quick with it.
Here it goes…….
22. I am pee shy like a motherfucker….stop giggling, I am fucking serious. I pretty much always have to turn the sink faucet on so I can pee, even when I’m by myself. If I am loaded on psychedelics than times that times 10. My ex-husband became pee shy after an experience at the Oregon Country Fair...he came up with a song that helps when I’m in a porto-potty at festivals, with no sink near. So if you all are at a festival and you walk by the Honey Buckets and hear…..”Shout, shout, let it all, these are the things you can do without...Come on...” Its probably me.
23. I was a member of the “Banana Slug Kissing” club in summer camp…
we to had a song…….”BANANA, BANANANANANAN, BANANA, BANANANANAANANANANAN……slug” They are slimy, like free moisturizer for your lips.
24. Speaking of which, I am addicted to Vaseline. Have you all ever watched that movie “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” well, remember the dad’s addiction to Windex…..my obsession with Vaseline is similar. I believe it is the cure all-end all. From burns, to chapped lips, calluses, to cleaning the inside of a bowl, slipping a tight ring off, polishing wood (I mean real wood here peeps, its like a “pledge” consistency, get your mind out of the gutter……mine goes there to.) Anyhoo…just try it next time for what the fuck ever….it works, but please get your mind out of the gutter…sheeesh.
25. I have over 600+ cassette tapes that I still listen to. You have been to a DEAD show, come find it in my collection and remember the good ole days.
26. I have no idea how to download music, my computer is old as hell, I pretty much know how to check my email, which I suck at, facebook, and I figured out my blog stuff….kind of.
27. My psoriasis has made my stomach a little polka dot scarred. I love it now….it has personality, and it has encouraged me to get my six pack back…cause a six pack with personality………HELLO NURSE……I also have a small bit left on one ass cheek, I have told a boy, “that’s the spank mark the last boy left.”
28. I cannot whistle.
29. I make a mean ass fried chicken……… Macadamia Nut-Buttered Corn Flake crusted Chicken with and Orange-Rhubarb-Honey-BBQ Glaze, whipped yams, collared greens with pancetta & black-eyed peas, little hits of lemon, accompanied by cornbread with citrus-honey-butter & yellow corn sautéed with heirloom tomatoes and red onions, and of course, Sweet Tea. Put your jaw back up bitches, I told you all I was the shit a long time ago.
30. When I was married, I could not cook for nothing….one day my ex-husband even threw away the dinner I cooked. I never cooked again, Until I left him. Then I just started, and I learned to trust my palate……..people fall in love with me cause of my cooking, my ass can cook……..it just needed confidence.
31. I didn’t have confidence in myself as a woman till about a year ago. When I moved to the Tenderloin. Maybe that is one of the reasons I feel so blessed to live here. Growing up I always felt fat, weird and ugly. When I met my husband, I thought the fact that he liked me was good enough. I never really felt attractive till I moved to the city and out on my own. Now I might be overly confident…but I don’t give a flying fuck, I feel like I have earned it.
32. I recently went and saw John Scofield play at Grace’s Cathedral………it was a solo show, he was nervous…..I went all by myself, I sat down and started to cry and shivers ran down my spine. I was simply moved beyond belief.
33. I love going to shows by myself. I do it all the time. I know enough people that I can just walk every bit and run into someone and chill, smoke and dance, and then move on, not have to deal with anyone’s shit but my own, which is enough. And I really like just dancing by myself, I have no worries about that. I load my pipe up and just groove.
34. I am a solo dancer. Have you read my freakin moves, ain’t no way some man can come up and get all dirty with me….I am trying to bake some fucking cookies here peeps.
35. In fact, that is one of my biggest turn offs, when a man sees me grooving and comes and starts touching me and gets all in my space...offer me a freakin joint, do not start grabbing me, I don’t fucking know you...introduce yourself, pay me a compliment, do not grab, that is fucking rude.
36. Sometimes I think...”I am too much woman for any man.”....a man confirmed that once...he said the exact same thing than said he would be honored to be one of my husbands…tee hee hee. But the reality of the situation is I think I am destined to be alone, and I am starting to come to terms with that and deal.
37. Sometimes I turn on streets that I know are rougher than others, or take the short way home even though I know I might see trouble...Trouble doesn’t scare me..It just makes me feel tougher. And I encourage myself to be as bad ass as I can.
38. I give awesome head. Crap did I just write that, and yet I’m not surprised.
39. I always walk on the sunny side of the street...It just feels better.
40. I have done nothing with my BA in History from the University of Oregon, nothing.
41. On average...give or take, I go to about 6 music shows a week.
42. I believe that there should be music on during love making (if possible) I like it when I can make love to the music and the man.
43. About a year and a half ago, I hooked up with this older musician, who some people might sneer at. He is burly, he wears overalls, is wrong, but let me tell you, he changed me. I knew a relationship was never wanted on either of our parts, just a good time. He told me I was his “Ophelia.” We hung out for five days, I broke four headboards, I really learned to let go…now, unless it just sucks, I come at least 3-5 times every time I have sex. I have no idea why or how…but awesomeness times a 100, totally….ahhhhhh fuck…another 100 and some snaps.
44. I am or have been a barista, bartender, caretaker, cashier, caterer, designer, dressmaker, housewife, manager, personal assistant, personal trainer, Pot Grower, Promoter, Publicist, real estate assistant, restaurateur, secretary, server & a space traveler...oh don’t forget about me being a ball of positivity...totally
45. I am scared shitless of not reaching my potential.
46. Good music turns me on, a lot. I bring spare panties to most ‘good’ shows….Warren Haynes shows, I bring like 3 pairs, with his new line up….we are looking at a 6 panty show.
47. I am one tuff ass woman and one very weak ass woman…..a very funny woman and a very serious woman……a very positive woman and a very realistic woman….I am by choice a very independent woman and I long to be taken care of….I love to rest but hate to stay still.….I am a true Gemini.
48. Good music gives me goose bumps……all over.
49. Sometimes I think, “I am the luckiest girl in the World.” For the sheer fact that I know the true power and light within me, but I am utterly terrified to release it.
50. Now you really think I would give you all 50….shut the front door…I got to leave something to the imagination….besides, you all know there is so much more……………..
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
STUFFING THE TURKEY….
I know its not Thanksgiving, but turkey is turkey, and that shit tastes good….so let review the dance.
First you got to pick up a bit of stuffing with your fingers from the bowl….taste….hmmm, a bit more salt…okay now, cut the little thingys that are holding the legs together and spread the legs….(damm it, for the last time, get your minds out of the gutter…tee hee hee.) Now go in there and grab the innards….all right this is getting pretty gutter worthy….anyhoo…..so make sure you got all the innards out and it is nice and clean….you can feed your innards to the dog or put them in a bowl for another day. Now start stuffing that turkey, putting handfuls of stuffing in the turkey and patting it down and making sure it is nice and tight. When it is all stuffed and tight, give it one more pat and bring the legs down….it is ready to cook….it might need to be brined with butter…..but we can’t go there…..that would just be dirty dancing.
Now in the oven it goes....
Gosh, I may need a spare pair of panties for this dance.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Blog 21.... 21 Things you may or may not Know about this Princess
Blog 21……..
21 things you may know or not know about this princess…..
1. I am a double Gemini born on Friday the 13th, it was a full moon, I am red headed and left-handed…..I am fucked peeps.
2. I shower 2-3+ times a day….I know, fucking nuts right, but how many times have I let you all know how I feel about SMELLING GOOD….its important, and I walk all over, I don’t want to be sticky if its hot, I used to have psoriasis, I don’t like my skin to feel weird, it freaks me the fuck out……they aren’t long showers, sometimes I say ‘I’m going to go dance’ and I spin a couple times in the water…..yes, I know, I’m fucking weird….but I also know, when someone says “You smell good,” I can say with confidence, “all over” ☺
3. Besides Butt walking and times of extreme cold (I mean 30 degrees or below) I wear flip flops…I even wore them in the snow when I went to Asheville. When I owned the restaurant, all I wore was high heels, I still have like 50 pairs (some from Paris I adorn my studio with) but after I sold the restaurant…it was strictly flip flops…..
4. I have 28 baseball hats, I love them. I usually have one in my purse for shows, so when the music gets really fucking dirty, I put the hat on. (I only really wear like two of them, I just have this addiction.)
5. You really want to get me off, finger me
6. I bought my first vibrator this year, I never needed or desired one before…I bought it at 3am in the morning, drunk as shit…the cashier still runs out to say ‘hi’ every time I walk by the store.
7. I only have one pair of jeans, I am a long dress girl, its just what I like. (and my legs are kinda purplish)
8. I speak Norwegian......what I can remember, It’s not by choice, I wanted to graduate college by a certain time and was in a community education program and had to register last….all the languages were full, except for Norwegian….anybody know how to say “chicken fuckers” in Norwegian…..
no….UFFTA………totally
9. I am allergic to seafood and it really pisses me off.
10. My first concert was NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK, stop fucking laughing that is not nice, but it is freakin hilarious, isn’t it.
11. Besides one friend in my first high school, I never really felt like I had friends till my second high school when I was like 16. Everyone thought I was totally weird……duhhhhh.
12. My favorite author is Tim Dorsey…I love him times 10……reading his books make me laugh out loud…he writes about how fucked up Florida is, how can you not laugh.
13. I can recite “Annabelle Lee” by Edgar Allen Poe word for word.
14. I was pregnant once when I was married. I had a miscarriage, the doctor said with all the stress from owning the restaurant, I would never be able to carry a child to full term…..as long as I worked the way that I did, and carried all the stress I carried…it would never happen. I don’t think I could ever want or try to get pregnant again….I have pretty much put that out of my mind……I am to scared and fearful to go through that kind of pain and loss again.
15. My favorite thing to have first thing in the morning is fresh squeezed watermelon juice, I love it, it is better than any kind of coffee, yet somewhere in my head it always makes me think “this would make a great mojito.” Every time.
16. I don’t get paid money for all of my jobs, I am a firm believer in "bartering" and in helping my friends and family and I don’t mind giving my time to something that I love. Especially when it comes to music...I love to support the music and musicians that help me heal every time I go see them. I am also a firm believer that together, we can….and if we all supported and helped each other... make it to the Promise Land…….
17. My real name is Emily Rose Powers, I got Sunshine from selling clean socks at the “Hog Farm” in 99 in a bright yellow and orange dress……(I made bank selling freshies to all the wookies at the festival, still the best thing to sell) I left Humboldt because of an ex-boyfriend who kinda lost it when I left him….I told everyone I was moving to Vermont, except a few friends, and headed up to Eugene…and became Sunshine…..(I was young and did not know how small the world really is) Now, if you call me Emily, (if you are not my parents) I think you are a creditor and I will look at you with death dagger eyes….
18. I don't wear panties...(except during epic concerts...in which case I bring at least two pairs)...I think this helps my "smelling good" action-ness
19. I cannot play any musical instruments…but my body is a musical instrument….at least that is what a musician told me once……..have you seen my ass dance.
20. I get a certain thrill out of harvesting a great buger out of my noise…..its like this feeling of relief.
21. Once when I blasted off, on an epic spaceship ride, the aliens told me I was “The Chosen One of Positivity.” And I believe them…….epicness in a spaceship ride…totally.
I am still a mystery, trust me…….and you can try to solve it, but you never will get it all, trust me...besides....what would be the fun in that.
Totally.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
I have never encountered this one, but I am told this is how it goes….
THE STINKY PANTY DANCE:
Reach out in front of you and start slowly pulling down the panties, get them off each foot, now smell…..REMEMBER, you have got to smell, cause if it smells bad….well that is bad, so you sniff and…ohhhhhhh nooooo they smell sooooooo bad. Plug your noise, hold the panties out in front, waving them back and forth trying to fan the smell out, no ding dong, that is just spreading the smell….ahhhhhhh.
See, maybe people should shower more.
21 things you may know or not know about this princess…..
1. I am a double Gemini born on Friday the 13th, it was a full moon, I am red headed and left-handed…..I am fucked peeps.
2. I shower 2-3+ times a day….I know, fucking nuts right, but how many times have I let you all know how I feel about SMELLING GOOD….its important, and I walk all over, I don’t want to be sticky if its hot, I used to have psoriasis, I don’t like my skin to feel weird, it freaks me the fuck out……they aren’t long showers, sometimes I say ‘I’m going to go dance’ and I spin a couple times in the water…..yes, I know, I’m fucking weird….but I also know, when someone says “You smell good,” I can say with confidence, “all over” ☺
3. Besides Butt walking and times of extreme cold (I mean 30 degrees or below) I wear flip flops…I even wore them in the snow when I went to Asheville. When I owned the restaurant, all I wore was high heels, I still have like 50 pairs (some from Paris I adorn my studio with) but after I sold the restaurant…it was strictly flip flops…..
4. I have 28 baseball hats, I love them. I usually have one in my purse for shows, so when the music gets really fucking dirty, I put the hat on. (I only really wear like two of them, I just have this addiction.)
5. You really want to get me off, finger me
6. I bought my first vibrator this year, I never needed or desired one before…I bought it at 3am in the morning, drunk as shit…the cashier still runs out to say ‘hi’ every time I walk by the store.
7. I only have one pair of jeans, I am a long dress girl, its just what I like. (and my legs are kinda purplish)
8. I speak Norwegian......what I can remember, It’s not by choice, I wanted to graduate college by a certain time and was in a community education program and had to register last….all the languages were full, except for Norwegian….anybody know how to say “chicken fuckers” in Norwegian…..
no….UFFTA………totally
9. I am allergic to seafood and it really pisses me off.
10. My first concert was NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK, stop fucking laughing that is not nice, but it is freakin hilarious, isn’t it.
11. Besides one friend in my first high school, I never really felt like I had friends till my second high school when I was like 16. Everyone thought I was totally weird……duhhhhh.
12. My favorite author is Tim Dorsey…I love him times 10……reading his books make me laugh out loud…he writes about how fucked up Florida is, how can you not laugh.
13. I can recite “Annabelle Lee” by Edgar Allen Poe word for word.
14. I was pregnant once when I was married. I had a miscarriage, the doctor said with all the stress from owning the restaurant, I would never be able to carry a child to full term…..as long as I worked the way that I did, and carried all the stress I carried…it would never happen. I don’t think I could ever want or try to get pregnant again….I have pretty much put that out of my mind……I am to scared and fearful to go through that kind of pain and loss again.
15. My favorite thing to have first thing in the morning is fresh squeezed watermelon juice, I love it, it is better than any kind of coffee, yet somewhere in my head it always makes me think “this would make a great mojito.” Every time.
16. I don’t get paid money for all of my jobs, I am a firm believer in "bartering" and in helping my friends and family and I don’t mind giving my time to something that I love. Especially when it comes to music...I love to support the music and musicians that help me heal every time I go see them. I am also a firm believer that together, we can….and if we all supported and helped each other... make it to the Promise Land…….
17. My real name is Emily Rose Powers, I got Sunshine from selling clean socks at the “Hog Farm” in 99 in a bright yellow and orange dress……(I made bank selling freshies to all the wookies at the festival, still the best thing to sell) I left Humboldt because of an ex-boyfriend who kinda lost it when I left him….I told everyone I was moving to Vermont, except a few friends, and headed up to Eugene…and became Sunshine…..(I was young and did not know how small the world really is) Now, if you call me Emily, (if you are not my parents) I think you are a creditor and I will look at you with death dagger eyes….
18. I don't wear panties...(except during epic concerts...in which case I bring at least two pairs)...I think this helps my "smelling good" action-ness
19. I cannot play any musical instruments…but my body is a musical instrument….at least that is what a musician told me once……..have you seen my ass dance.
20. I get a certain thrill out of harvesting a great buger out of my noise…..its like this feeling of relief.
21. Once when I blasted off, on an epic spaceship ride, the aliens told me I was “The Chosen One of Positivity.” And I believe them…….epicness in a spaceship ride…totally.
I am still a mystery, trust me…….and you can try to solve it, but you never will get it all, trust me...besides....what would be the fun in that.
Totally.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
I have never encountered this one, but I am told this is how it goes….
THE STINKY PANTY DANCE:
Reach out in front of you and start slowly pulling down the panties, get them off each foot, now smell…..REMEMBER, you have got to smell, cause if it smells bad….well that is bad, so you sniff and…ohhhhhhh nooooo they smell sooooooo bad. Plug your noise, hold the panties out in front, waving them back and forth trying to fan the smell out, no ding dong, that is just spreading the smell….ahhhhhhh.
See, maybe people should shower more.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Blog 20...Butt Walking & Tenderloin Weapons Part II
Blog 20……Butt Walking & Tenderloin Weapons Part II
What does Butt Walking have to do with tenderloin weapons, settle down, I’ll get there.
I feel I first need to explain my “butt walks” cause I talk about them so freaking much……
But if you had my ass….wouldn’t you.
Anyhoo…….
The History of Butt Walking
….Back in 2002, when I was 230lbs…I had a hard time walking, even writing for that matter. I had been put on disability and had been to numerous doctors and done numerous tests. No one knew what the fuck was wrong with me, all they knew is that something was wrong with my nerves and their endings. Well I had fallen into a depression and one day, my ex-husband had to carry me to the toilet….I had a “fuck this” moment. I joined the gym the next day. All I could do was swim for 10 minutes before I started to hurt. I did and extra minute each day, and after two weeks I did 5 minutes of very light weights. Well after two months of doing this….I could some what move again, and I was motivated to get all functionality back. I lived at the bottom of this massive hill, that I grimaced at when I saw people trudging up. I stared at the hill, it stared back at me……and I thought that if I could make it up the hill, I could lose all my weight, if I could do this, I could do anything. It was one of my toughest days, and a day I learned how to cope with pain, but I walked up that hill. 8 months later, I was 80lbs lighter, and that hill was only the warm up to my daily runs. Did I have pain still, yes, but I had learned to cope. And my ass had begun its ascend.
Today’s Butt Walk
I butt walk pretty much everyday now. I find hills to walk up all the time. I do have a favorite. On Taylor St, between California and Pine…the hill is so steep they put steps in it. I walk up the steps 10 times rotating how I walk up the stairs. I don’t work up a crazy sweat, but I feel it in my ass. Not only are butt walks great for my ass; they are a time to think, talk on the phone and space out. I know that if I ran, I would get way to tired and not work out because I would be exhausted. Butt walks are at a pace I can do daily and not crap out.
Now a lot of times I do butt walks at night………a lot of times I have these 2 ½ lbs weights that you stack and have the holes in the middle…so I can work my arms and my ass at the same time....I also figure I can use the weights as a twofer….for my arms, and to knock someone the fuck out if they think of messing up my ass improving time.
Which brings me to……
Tenderloin Weapons Part II….
1: My Metal Weights..
Do I feel like an idiot sometimes walking around with weights downtown…hell yes, do I give a fuck, hell no. I feel safe as fuck, no one even tries to mess with me, my friend even gave me a line to tell them (since I tell people I’ll take their eye home in my shoe with my corkscrew) she told me to say,
“I’ll take out your orbital bone……bitch.”
The orbital bone I have now learned is the half moon shaped curved bone underneath your eye. When she told me this, I told her to “settle down” but I also gave her a high-five. When you start naming crazy bones you are going to break on some chicken fucker’s face….they know you mean business.
And it is kinda fun to say “orbital”…..totally.
2: My Jerry Day Kazoo.
San Francisco can I give you massive props for dedicating an entire baseball game to Jerry Garcia. That was the coolest shit ever…times 11….totally. People were like, “Enjoy the show….I mean game.” I puffed at the park, Jerry tunes were playing and Billy and Mickey led all of us in a Guinness Book of World Records breaking Kazoo Concert in the 7th inning stretch. Somehow I ending up with two kazoos, while I keep one at work for birthday and high five ordering moments, I generally have the other one in my purse….(you don’t walk around with a kazoo in your purse….what the fuck is wrong with you.) Well one night I had forgotten my corkscrew and I was walking on a tough street and my boobs were looking, well awesomeness. As the cat calls started to come, I reached in my purse and the first thing I pulled out was my orange kazoo. I realized something that night, crack heads don’t mess with you if they think that you are crazier than them. At three in the morning my bright red ass was walking down Turk St. blowing my kazoo, sometimes spinning in a circle, doing odd songs….I’ve learned how to do almost all of GHOSTLAND OBSERVATORY’S “Sad Sad City”…awesomeness. As if I were Moses crossing the tenderloin seas, the crack heads parted, some of them even pointed and stared. I walked down the street with ease, having a great time to my kazoo song, not even a cat call, untouched and unfazed…..all the way to Leavenworth.
If you can’t beat them, join them…..totally.
3: My Hot Tea.
Since having to give up coffee because of my psoriasis….CHICKEN FUCKERS….I have been a tea drinking motherfucker. And just as a Loin cocktail with ice can protect…so can a hot ass cup of tea….and the hot tea bag in the eye can be salt on the burn (what is up with me and fucking up people’s eyes, I have no clue.) Just flip the lid off, toss and run.
I had to do it once….I yelled,
“Hot Tea in your face”
It totally worked….sometimes you have to MacGyver that tenderloin weapon shit up and just act. In the day I don’t walk with my corkscrew out like I do at night….
And I’ll say it as many times as necessary…
Ain’t no one going to fuck with my cute ass without a fucking fight.
4: The Sparkly Wand.
Now I don’t own a Sparkly Wand….I wish I did. But a couple of my girlfriends have one. One day my girl and I were walking and she was waiving her wand, she turned to me and said, “Man the crack heads really clear a path for me if I wave this wand around.” Once again, you weird out the crack heads, they are going to give you some space (a pink and purple sparkle wand that you run around with raised over your head might do this) and also, that wand fucking hurts, I have been hit many times in the ass with it and owwwwwww (I totally liked it) A sparkle wand definitely makes the list for Tenderloin Weapons, and it has glitter, another twofer.
We will save more for later….if you think of more, let me know, I’m always about protecting my cute ass, and lifting it a little more.
One thing I will say, even if a crack head or a dude is bothering you and you have to threaten them, it does not give you a right to be rude.
Being fucking rude is not proper.
And as a true princess, I am all about being proper and treating people with common respect.
I always say, “No thank you Darlin” and I just repeat, “no thank you” than if they don’t listen I lift up my corkscrew or whatever else I got, and as I threaten them, I end it with a darlin.
Because I would not have a problem with them doing whatever, if they weren’t freaking me the fuck out.
Totally.
Now go be polite and don’t let anyone fuck with you…..times 10.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
(I love how you came up with this mama & the excitement you had about it)
The Defending yourself against the Dude with no Drink Control.
As a hot lady, not only do you have to protect yourself on the streets, but at shows you have to protect yourself from the drunk ass ding dong that dances to close to you and sloshes his drink all over you (chicken fucker) So put your arms in front, elbows at 3pm and 9pm, hands in the middle….And dance as you block and follow the drink. Oh he is going to spill…fake right, fake left, he is moving up, now down, now to the left again, follow it. Once in a while you might have to go on the offensive and hit his drink while you are blocking, especially if he has broken the line and spilled on you. Spill it back a little, and just give him the 'I’m cute' look and go “opps, I like to dance with my arms…sorry.” He can’t get mad, he likes to dance with his drink, you are cute....and sometimes…..worlds collide.
Till next time…..Sparkles.
What does Butt Walking have to do with tenderloin weapons, settle down, I’ll get there.
I feel I first need to explain my “butt walks” cause I talk about them so freaking much……
But if you had my ass….wouldn’t you.
Anyhoo…….
The History of Butt Walking
….Back in 2002, when I was 230lbs…I had a hard time walking, even writing for that matter. I had been put on disability and had been to numerous doctors and done numerous tests. No one knew what the fuck was wrong with me, all they knew is that something was wrong with my nerves and their endings. Well I had fallen into a depression and one day, my ex-husband had to carry me to the toilet….I had a “fuck this” moment. I joined the gym the next day. All I could do was swim for 10 minutes before I started to hurt. I did and extra minute each day, and after two weeks I did 5 minutes of very light weights. Well after two months of doing this….I could some what move again, and I was motivated to get all functionality back. I lived at the bottom of this massive hill, that I grimaced at when I saw people trudging up. I stared at the hill, it stared back at me……and I thought that if I could make it up the hill, I could lose all my weight, if I could do this, I could do anything. It was one of my toughest days, and a day I learned how to cope with pain, but I walked up that hill. 8 months later, I was 80lbs lighter, and that hill was only the warm up to my daily runs. Did I have pain still, yes, but I had learned to cope. And my ass had begun its ascend.
Today’s Butt Walk
I butt walk pretty much everyday now. I find hills to walk up all the time. I do have a favorite. On Taylor St, between California and Pine…the hill is so steep they put steps in it. I walk up the steps 10 times rotating how I walk up the stairs. I don’t work up a crazy sweat, but I feel it in my ass. Not only are butt walks great for my ass; they are a time to think, talk on the phone and space out. I know that if I ran, I would get way to tired and not work out because I would be exhausted. Butt walks are at a pace I can do daily and not crap out.
Now a lot of times I do butt walks at night………a lot of times I have these 2 ½ lbs weights that you stack and have the holes in the middle…so I can work my arms and my ass at the same time....I also figure I can use the weights as a twofer….for my arms, and to knock someone the fuck out if they think of messing up my ass improving time.
Which brings me to……
Tenderloin Weapons Part II….
1: My Metal Weights..
Do I feel like an idiot sometimes walking around with weights downtown…hell yes, do I give a fuck, hell no. I feel safe as fuck, no one even tries to mess with me, my friend even gave me a line to tell them (since I tell people I’ll take their eye home in my shoe with my corkscrew) she told me to say,
“I’ll take out your orbital bone……bitch.”
The orbital bone I have now learned is the half moon shaped curved bone underneath your eye. When she told me this, I told her to “settle down” but I also gave her a high-five. When you start naming crazy bones you are going to break on some chicken fucker’s face….they know you mean business.
And it is kinda fun to say “orbital”…..totally.
2: My Jerry Day Kazoo.
San Francisco can I give you massive props for dedicating an entire baseball game to Jerry Garcia. That was the coolest shit ever…times 11….totally. People were like, “Enjoy the show….I mean game.” I puffed at the park, Jerry tunes were playing and Billy and Mickey led all of us in a Guinness Book of World Records breaking Kazoo Concert in the 7th inning stretch. Somehow I ending up with two kazoos, while I keep one at work for birthday and high five ordering moments, I generally have the other one in my purse….(you don’t walk around with a kazoo in your purse….what the fuck is wrong with you.) Well one night I had forgotten my corkscrew and I was walking on a tough street and my boobs were looking, well awesomeness. As the cat calls started to come, I reached in my purse and the first thing I pulled out was my orange kazoo. I realized something that night, crack heads don’t mess with you if they think that you are crazier than them. At three in the morning my bright red ass was walking down Turk St. blowing my kazoo, sometimes spinning in a circle, doing odd songs….I’ve learned how to do almost all of GHOSTLAND OBSERVATORY’S “Sad Sad City”…awesomeness. As if I were Moses crossing the tenderloin seas, the crack heads parted, some of them even pointed and stared. I walked down the street with ease, having a great time to my kazoo song, not even a cat call, untouched and unfazed…..all the way to Leavenworth.
If you can’t beat them, join them…..totally.
3: My Hot Tea.
Since having to give up coffee because of my psoriasis….CHICKEN FUCKERS….I have been a tea drinking motherfucker. And just as a Loin cocktail with ice can protect…so can a hot ass cup of tea….and the hot tea bag in the eye can be salt on the burn (what is up with me and fucking up people’s eyes, I have no clue.) Just flip the lid off, toss and run.
I had to do it once….I yelled,
“Hot Tea in your face”
It totally worked….sometimes you have to MacGyver that tenderloin weapon shit up and just act. In the day I don’t walk with my corkscrew out like I do at night….
And I’ll say it as many times as necessary…
Ain’t no one going to fuck with my cute ass without a fucking fight.
4: The Sparkly Wand.
Now I don’t own a Sparkly Wand….I wish I did. But a couple of my girlfriends have one. One day my girl and I were walking and she was waiving her wand, she turned to me and said, “Man the crack heads really clear a path for me if I wave this wand around.” Once again, you weird out the crack heads, they are going to give you some space (a pink and purple sparkle wand that you run around with raised over your head might do this) and also, that wand fucking hurts, I have been hit many times in the ass with it and owwwwwww (I totally liked it) A sparkle wand definitely makes the list for Tenderloin Weapons, and it has glitter, another twofer.
We will save more for later….if you think of more, let me know, I’m always about protecting my cute ass, and lifting it a little more.
One thing I will say, even if a crack head or a dude is bothering you and you have to threaten them, it does not give you a right to be rude.
Being fucking rude is not proper.
And as a true princess, I am all about being proper and treating people with common respect.
I always say, “No thank you Darlin” and I just repeat, “no thank you” than if they don’t listen I lift up my corkscrew or whatever else I got, and as I threaten them, I end it with a darlin.
Because I would not have a problem with them doing whatever, if they weren’t freaking me the fuck out.
Totally.
Now go be polite and don’t let anyone fuck with you…..times 10.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
(I love how you came up with this mama & the excitement you had about it)
The Defending yourself against the Dude with no Drink Control.
As a hot lady, not only do you have to protect yourself on the streets, but at shows you have to protect yourself from the drunk ass ding dong that dances to close to you and sloshes his drink all over you (chicken fucker) So put your arms in front, elbows at 3pm and 9pm, hands in the middle….And dance as you block and follow the drink. Oh he is going to spill…fake right, fake left, he is moving up, now down, now to the left again, follow it. Once in a while you might have to go on the offensive and hit his drink while you are blocking, especially if he has broken the line and spilled on you. Spill it back a little, and just give him the 'I’m cute' look and go “opps, I like to dance with my arms…sorry.” He can’t get mad, he likes to dance with his drink, you are cute....and sometimes…..worlds collide.
Till next time…..Sparkles.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Blog 19...Living in Reflections of a Dream
Blog 19…..Living in Reflections of a Dream.
When I first left my ex-husband, it was my dream to have an apartment in the city. I ended up staying in Eugene longer than I wanted to…..but looking back, I have realized that in some sort of way, my dream came true……times 10.
Well Tenderloin, it has been a year since I arrived on Leavenworth….
A year ago I was lost……..I was a little broken hearted over Date 3 from Blog 7….something that in hindsight I should have been stoked about. I had been offered some acres to tend to in Shelter Cove and was thinking about moving up there…….Then I took some psychedelics and realized what the fuck was I thinking, moving my bright red ass to another small town to grow pot….been there, done that…..hell no on that one for sure….
I’ll say it once, I’ll say it twice, thank god for psychedelics.....in my mind, it is free therapy at its finest. (and the colors…sighhhhhhhh)
I realized, what I really needed was to move the fuck out of my parent’s house….I was almost 30. Now granted I had been out of my parents house since the age of 18…but my life had dealt me some harsh blows, divorce, foreclosure, bankruptcy….chicken fuckers galore, and sometimes….you have to go home, and I was blessed enough to have that option.
But going home after being so independent is hard, and it was for myself and for my parents. For the health of my relationship with my parents, I had to move out. (the fact that I raged it hard core at their house every time they were out of town, did not help the situation…but hey, I was blowing off steam…totally)
For the health of my relationship with anyone I had to move out. Due to the fact that I had to say, “I live with my parents.” Made me feel not worthy of a lot of men, or at least, not good enough. And hey, I was not about to get busy in my parents house……no way could I get comfortable, and a girl needs lovin….I HAD TO MOVE OUT.
When I first thought of moving out, I looked at prices (and knowing I had to live by myself….I am one crazy bitch, I would not like to put the burden of living with me on anyone…) shit was expensive, so I thought….OAKLAND. I found a sweet spot, one bedroom, huge closet, close to Trader Joe’s, no shootings outside while I was there….did I mention a huge fucking closet…..and for the first time in a long time...I actually took time to think about it, to not just rush into what at first glance I thought was the right move……..oh and more psychedelics …….that shit really helped me think.
I realized…(at the time I had five jobs in the city, not six) why the hell was I moving farther away from work…that made no fucking sense……Bart stops running at 12:30am....that is fucking early...what about my shows, my parting and my debauchery..…
I needed to re-evaluate the situation…..and more importantly...
I loved the fucking city, why would I leave.
So I looked at the Tenderloin, there were no other options in my price range……..yeah there were crack heads, but I could live by myself, and peace of mind, is worth having to deal with some shit. I remember before I did the final okay on the apartment I walked through the tenderloin, loaded on psychedelics at 3am in the morning, through the dirtiest of the dirty……to make sure that I could do it.
My parents were not okay with it...They came to look at the place and found themselves in a crack head smoking sandwich in front of my apartment……and where the chips should be on the plate...a hooker was taking a shit…..this was all at like 5pm.
Well they freaked out. But they had freaked out about Shelter Cove and Oakland. And I understood, but I took the risk. I told them that I could deal with the craziness...like my parents always do...they supported me whether I was going to fall or not...because they knew no mater what I had to learn.
Here I am a year later……..In love with the heart of the city. Living on my own in the tenderloin has helped me identify with what is inside me.
I have come to terms with me and all of my faults. I have found the light that shines inside of me and I have learned how to funnel it into positivity.
I have become me…..with out any preconceived notions...
just simply me,
and I love it.
And I am allowed to be me, with no judgments or criticism, only praise. The tenderloin is never going to give you shit for being you…only compliment it.
Thank you Tenderloin…times 10.
****side note****
just in case you are thinking of moving to the Tenderloin.
-The apartment buildings on the northeast corner of Polk and Geary have mice...serious mice. As I walk to the gym they scamper from the bushes out front to the curb across my feet. If you are moving to the Tenderloin…I don’t recommend moving to that building.
-To see what your cockroach situation is really like in your building, before you move in, check out the broiler room, or around it. My building…no bugs, at least that I can see…trust me I got some cockroaches, they are just really small. A couple of the buildings on O’Farrell, have cockroaches the size of my big toe, just lying by the floor of the boiler room….note to self…..DON’T MOVE IN THERE, either….its never good when you can hear a bug crawling against the floor.
-Make sure that you can hang. If you walk through and all the guys hitting on you make you sneer, or the smell of piss knocks you over, or you can’t stop staring at the odd naked form that you think is a human on the corner, but you are not sure so you stare…..The tenderloin is not the place for you.
But if you can’t hang you also might want to look more closer at where you live, cause every place has issues and problems..in the tenderloin, we are just more in your face with it.
And one thing is for sure...
I am a in your face kinda girl.
*******************************************
But sometimes the most wondrous, tasty fruits, look like nastiness from the outside and you just have to work through the shell to taste the sweet fruit.
And tenderloin, you are one sweet piece of fruit…
Things don’t always work out the way you want, and that can be a fucking great ass thing….
Cause what you never knew you wanted……
Could be exactly what you need.
Happy Anniversary to me.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
(I had forgotten about this one, thanks mama for reminding me.)
CUTTING THE RUG
This is a simple dance move that is great for when a band is really getting down. Widespread Panic doing “Ribs and Whiskey” is a perfect example.
What you want to do is grab the rug from both sides and pull it off the floor…now shake that shit out. Now take you pointer and middle finger and make a pair of scissors and start to cut that rug the fuck up…I usually bring my knee up and down while I am cutting just because I think it makes the whole thing look better.
And fuck if you can look better, why the fuck not.
Now go cut the rug …bitches.
When I first left my ex-husband, it was my dream to have an apartment in the city. I ended up staying in Eugene longer than I wanted to…..but looking back, I have realized that in some sort of way, my dream came true……times 10.
Well Tenderloin, it has been a year since I arrived on Leavenworth….
A year ago I was lost……..I was a little broken hearted over Date 3 from Blog 7….something that in hindsight I should have been stoked about. I had been offered some acres to tend to in Shelter Cove and was thinking about moving up there…….Then I took some psychedelics and realized what the fuck was I thinking, moving my bright red ass to another small town to grow pot….been there, done that…..hell no on that one for sure….
I’ll say it once, I’ll say it twice, thank god for psychedelics.....in my mind, it is free therapy at its finest. (and the colors…sighhhhhhhh)
I realized, what I really needed was to move the fuck out of my parent’s house….I was almost 30. Now granted I had been out of my parents house since the age of 18…but my life had dealt me some harsh blows, divorce, foreclosure, bankruptcy….chicken fuckers galore, and sometimes….you have to go home, and I was blessed enough to have that option.
But going home after being so independent is hard, and it was for myself and for my parents. For the health of my relationship with my parents, I had to move out. (the fact that I raged it hard core at their house every time they were out of town, did not help the situation…but hey, I was blowing off steam…totally)
For the health of my relationship with anyone I had to move out. Due to the fact that I had to say, “I live with my parents.” Made me feel not worthy of a lot of men, or at least, not good enough. And hey, I was not about to get busy in my parents house……no way could I get comfortable, and a girl needs lovin….I HAD TO MOVE OUT.
When I first thought of moving out, I looked at prices (and knowing I had to live by myself….I am one crazy bitch, I would not like to put the burden of living with me on anyone…) shit was expensive, so I thought….OAKLAND. I found a sweet spot, one bedroom, huge closet, close to Trader Joe’s, no shootings outside while I was there….did I mention a huge fucking closet…..and for the first time in a long time...I actually took time to think about it, to not just rush into what at first glance I thought was the right move……..oh and more psychedelics …….that shit really helped me think.
I realized…(at the time I had five jobs in the city, not six) why the hell was I moving farther away from work…that made no fucking sense……Bart stops running at 12:30am....that is fucking early...what about my shows, my parting and my debauchery..…
I needed to re-evaluate the situation…..and more importantly...
I loved the fucking city, why would I leave.
So I looked at the Tenderloin, there were no other options in my price range……..yeah there were crack heads, but I could live by myself, and peace of mind, is worth having to deal with some shit. I remember before I did the final okay on the apartment I walked through the tenderloin, loaded on psychedelics at 3am in the morning, through the dirtiest of the dirty……to make sure that I could do it.
My parents were not okay with it...They came to look at the place and found themselves in a crack head smoking sandwich in front of my apartment……and where the chips should be on the plate...a hooker was taking a shit…..this was all at like 5pm.
Well they freaked out. But they had freaked out about Shelter Cove and Oakland. And I understood, but I took the risk. I told them that I could deal with the craziness...like my parents always do...they supported me whether I was going to fall or not...because they knew no mater what I had to learn.
Here I am a year later……..In love with the heart of the city. Living on my own in the tenderloin has helped me identify with what is inside me.
I have come to terms with me and all of my faults. I have found the light that shines inside of me and I have learned how to funnel it into positivity.
I have become me…..with out any preconceived notions...
just simply me,
and I love it.
And I am allowed to be me, with no judgments or criticism, only praise. The tenderloin is never going to give you shit for being you…only compliment it.
Thank you Tenderloin…times 10.
****side note****
just in case you are thinking of moving to the Tenderloin.
-The apartment buildings on the northeast corner of Polk and Geary have mice...serious mice. As I walk to the gym they scamper from the bushes out front to the curb across my feet. If you are moving to the Tenderloin…I don’t recommend moving to that building.
-To see what your cockroach situation is really like in your building, before you move in, check out the broiler room, or around it. My building…no bugs, at least that I can see…trust me I got some cockroaches, they are just really small. A couple of the buildings on O’Farrell, have cockroaches the size of my big toe, just lying by the floor of the boiler room….note to self…..DON’T MOVE IN THERE, either….its never good when you can hear a bug crawling against the floor.
-Make sure that you can hang. If you walk through and all the guys hitting on you make you sneer, or the smell of piss knocks you over, or you can’t stop staring at the odd naked form that you think is a human on the corner, but you are not sure so you stare…..The tenderloin is not the place for you.
But if you can’t hang you also might want to look more closer at where you live, cause every place has issues and problems..in the tenderloin, we are just more in your face with it.
And one thing is for sure...
I am a in your face kinda girl.
*******************************************
But sometimes the most wondrous, tasty fruits, look like nastiness from the outside and you just have to work through the shell to taste the sweet fruit.
And tenderloin, you are one sweet piece of fruit…
Things don’t always work out the way you want, and that can be a fucking great ass thing….
Cause what you never knew you wanted……
Could be exactly what you need.
Happy Anniversary to me.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
(I had forgotten about this one, thanks mama for reminding me.)
CUTTING THE RUG
This is a simple dance move that is great for when a band is really getting down. Widespread Panic doing “Ribs and Whiskey” is a perfect example.
What you want to do is grab the rug from both sides and pull it off the floor…now shake that shit out. Now take you pointer and middle finger and make a pair of scissors and start to cut that rug the fuck up…I usually bring my knee up and down while I am cutting just because I think it makes the whole thing look better.
And fuck if you can look better, why the fuck not.
Now go cut the rug …bitches.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Blog 18....Walk like a Tenderloin Princess
Blog 18…..Walk like a Tenderloin Princess
All right, look bitches, walk that shit up.
(or roll, or hop….whatever you do….just slow the pace down and enjoy)
I walk that shit up…..one of my friends made me calculate how much I hoof it and on a good day, if I butt walk, wander around town for an hour or walk back and forth to the Boom Boom Room and walk to and from work…I walk at least 10-12 miles a day….around 4 hours…..and that does not include me running around at work.
Some people might read this and go,
“Settle the Fuck down ding dong…”
NEVER….that is my problem….tee hee hee.
Here are a couple of reasons that walking Kicks Ass…..
A. Your ass really does look better…um…TOTALLY… mine is a perfect example.
B. I love to eat…I mean seriously I could devour a freakin house…I eat whenever possible and I love food…especially good food (I used to own a French restaurant peeps…butter is my friend times 10)….and I usually eat a dessert a day. I’m not at my ideal weight…but I look awesomeness, and I don’t gain weight…or I haven’t….since I started to walk around the town.
C. You get to have the time to really see things, you aren’t rushing past something. As a Pothead..walking is much more my pace. For example, do you all know the door stops around the bars in Union Square are painted like mushrooms…..freakin awesomeness….or the Moroccan restaurant on O’Farrell St. has like six different kinds of tile in its entry way….would you notice that if you were flying by in a car…would the little things catch your eye?
D. I can smoke pot and walk. Now granted I can smoke pot and drive to (crap did I just say that) But I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again….driving in this city full of chicken fuckers is way to much responsibility for a hottie like myself. I like to chill, I work way to hard and I don’t need to be concentrating super hard when I am traveling from place to place. Driving is stressful. There are one way streets that all of a sudden go two ways, roads that fork, crack heads that wander, people more loaded than me that drive and so on and so on…..I feel like it is my responsibility as a Princess to acknowledge the well being of my kingdom and not add to the ding dongs on the road….after all, its about improvement baby…and me on the road…that’s the wrong direction.
E. Crap, I had a bunch more shit to say….I wonder if smoking pot really does affect your memory….. hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
F. It’s the best time to think, just you out and about…thinking, about anything and everything.
G. You can always take a different way. I remember when I used to drive around Eugene (talk about trouble waiting to happen) I always had my set ways to get to and from my restaurant. There are lights and main roads and less options when you drive. When I walk to and from work…I take a different way almost everyday. Everyday I see something new. I see something I’ve never seen before and I might not see again…there is always a chance of discovery….and I’ll be at a slow enough pace, that I’ll be able to see it.
H. Explore and Wander….Do you all know how much cool ass architecture is in this city? All the old houses, the big windows, the Marriot in between Mission St and Market St with the big windows on top so that you can see all around the whole city. The crazy stores, the park, the beach, the museums…. There is so much AWESOME shit in this city that you just need to take the time to find it.
I. SOMEONE PUT GLITTER IN THE SIDEWALKS…..AWESOMENESS….this totally makes walking even more rocking…and if you are walking on psychedelics than…..awesomeness times 10.
J. It’s cheaper. For a broke ass princess like myself, I don’t have money to have a car. In fact, when I first moved back to the city I had a car….and I called those peeps and told them to come and tow that shit away. It was more hassle than it was worth. Maintence, parking, tickets, meters, garages, chicken fuckers, gas………time to find parking…..SHUT THE FRONT DOOR….I was over it…totally. Now I just walk…maybe I’ll cab it one way..its still cheaper than having a car, I still get to chill, and it gives me money to do shit I would rather do…smoke, eat and dance.
K. Some of you might be thinking…what about the bus…but let’s be honest here….The bus smells bad…..and smelling bad is not an option.
L. YOU CAN DRINK….ALL NIGHT LONG. Now granted since having psoriasis, I really don’t drink that much anymore. But I like to have the option. In fact, I like to do what ever the fuck I want, and I do.
And I guess that is why I walk. Because that is what I want to fucking do.
Now you go do whatever the fuck you want to do…
***it does always rock if you can improve your ass while you are doing what you are doing.***
I walked out the gate to get tea and a muffin today and the a crack head smoking against my apartment told me,
“You have the power to elevate a people”
That’s a little to much destiny before caffeine darlin.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
Duhhhhhhh………….
Walk like a Tenderloin Princess…
So start by finding your ribs….most of my movement comes from my core. Now move your ass back and forth and front to back…find your internal rhythm. I snap my fingers or kinda groove with one hand…
REMEMBER..one hand always has your corkscrew,
ready to defend. A couple of times as you walk be sure you put your hand up and flash that corkscrew….no one is allowed to fuck up your beat. Don’t forget to get your head in the walk…kinda like “the nod.” Now here comes some talent. Lighting the bowl and holding the corkscrew. I hold the corkscrew with my carb hand….(now I would like to be smoking a joint, but I don’t grow herb anymore peeps, and herb I get is a gift, so I bowl that shit up…I do have a smoking Sherlock and if you put hash on top of your bowl you don’t have to be distracted with lighting crap all the time cause it starts rolling..and it tastes good) Now puff and boogie and take it all in…and get where you need to go….all in good time.
All right, look bitches, walk that shit up.
(or roll, or hop….whatever you do….just slow the pace down and enjoy)
I walk that shit up…..one of my friends made me calculate how much I hoof it and on a good day, if I butt walk, wander around town for an hour or walk back and forth to the Boom Boom Room and walk to and from work…I walk at least 10-12 miles a day….around 4 hours…..and that does not include me running around at work.
Some people might read this and go,
“Settle the Fuck down ding dong…”
NEVER….that is my problem….tee hee hee.
Here are a couple of reasons that walking Kicks Ass…..
A. Your ass really does look better…um…TOTALLY… mine is a perfect example.
B. I love to eat…I mean seriously I could devour a freakin house…I eat whenever possible and I love food…especially good food (I used to own a French restaurant peeps…butter is my friend times 10)….and I usually eat a dessert a day. I’m not at my ideal weight…but I look awesomeness, and I don’t gain weight…or I haven’t….since I started to walk around the town.
C. You get to have the time to really see things, you aren’t rushing past something. As a Pothead..walking is much more my pace. For example, do you all know the door stops around the bars in Union Square are painted like mushrooms…..freakin awesomeness….or the Moroccan restaurant on O’Farrell St. has like six different kinds of tile in its entry way….would you notice that if you were flying by in a car…would the little things catch your eye?
D. I can smoke pot and walk. Now granted I can smoke pot and drive to (crap did I just say that) But I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again….driving in this city full of chicken fuckers is way to much responsibility for a hottie like myself. I like to chill, I work way to hard and I don’t need to be concentrating super hard when I am traveling from place to place. Driving is stressful. There are one way streets that all of a sudden go two ways, roads that fork, crack heads that wander, people more loaded than me that drive and so on and so on…..I feel like it is my responsibility as a Princess to acknowledge the well being of my kingdom and not add to the ding dongs on the road….after all, its about improvement baby…and me on the road…that’s the wrong direction.
E. Crap, I had a bunch more shit to say….I wonder if smoking pot really does affect your memory….. hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
F. It’s the best time to think, just you out and about…thinking, about anything and everything.
G. You can always take a different way. I remember when I used to drive around Eugene (talk about trouble waiting to happen) I always had my set ways to get to and from my restaurant. There are lights and main roads and less options when you drive. When I walk to and from work…I take a different way almost everyday. Everyday I see something new. I see something I’ve never seen before and I might not see again…there is always a chance of discovery….and I’ll be at a slow enough pace, that I’ll be able to see it.
H. Explore and Wander….Do you all know how much cool ass architecture is in this city? All the old houses, the big windows, the Marriot in between Mission St and Market St with the big windows on top so that you can see all around the whole city. The crazy stores, the park, the beach, the museums…. There is so much AWESOME shit in this city that you just need to take the time to find it.
I. SOMEONE PUT GLITTER IN THE SIDEWALKS…..AWESOMENESS….this totally makes walking even more rocking…and if you are walking on psychedelics than…..awesomeness times 10.
J. It’s cheaper. For a broke ass princess like myself, I don’t have money to have a car. In fact, when I first moved back to the city I had a car….and I called those peeps and told them to come and tow that shit away. It was more hassle than it was worth. Maintence, parking, tickets, meters, garages, chicken fuckers, gas………time to find parking…..SHUT THE FRONT DOOR….I was over it…totally. Now I just walk…maybe I’ll cab it one way..its still cheaper than having a car, I still get to chill, and it gives me money to do shit I would rather do…smoke, eat and dance.
K. Some of you might be thinking…what about the bus…but let’s be honest here….The bus smells bad…..and smelling bad is not an option.
L. YOU CAN DRINK….ALL NIGHT LONG. Now granted since having psoriasis, I really don’t drink that much anymore. But I like to have the option. In fact, I like to do what ever the fuck I want, and I do.
And I guess that is why I walk. Because that is what I want to fucking do.
Now you go do whatever the fuck you want to do…
***it does always rock if you can improve your ass while you are doing what you are doing.***
I walked out the gate to get tea and a muffin today and the a crack head smoking against my apartment told me,
“You have the power to elevate a people”
That’s a little to much destiny before caffeine darlin.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
Duhhhhhhh………….
Walk like a Tenderloin Princess…
So start by finding your ribs….most of my movement comes from my core. Now move your ass back and forth and front to back…find your internal rhythm. I snap my fingers or kinda groove with one hand…
REMEMBER..one hand always has your corkscrew,
ready to defend. A couple of times as you walk be sure you put your hand up and flash that corkscrew….no one is allowed to fuck up your beat. Don’t forget to get your head in the walk…kinda like “the nod.” Now here comes some talent. Lighting the bowl and holding the corkscrew. I hold the corkscrew with my carb hand….(now I would like to be smoking a joint, but I don’t grow herb anymore peeps, and herb I get is a gift, so I bowl that shit up…I do have a smoking Sherlock and if you put hash on top of your bowl you don’t have to be distracted with lighting crap all the time cause it starts rolling..and it tastes good) Now puff and boogie and take it all in…and get where you need to go….all in good time.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
BLOG 17...Love Tales...Part Two...DATING RESTRICTION
Blog 17….Love Tales..Part Two...DATING RESTRICTION
A perfect example of why I am going on Restriction again is this:
I am at a bar playing solitaire
****please note****
I play solitaire at bars when I go there by myself with real cards so
A. I don’t just have to stare off into space.
B. I don’t have to pine to talk to ding dongs
C. If a ding dong comes and talk to me, I can ignore them and go back to my game.
D. and I like to play Solitaire, its fun for me.
So anyway this chicken fucker walks up to me and goes,
“What are you playing, solitaire, that is like you screaming ‘I’m Lonely’ you are to hot to do that, why don’ you take my number”
As I laughed in his face…I didn’t mean to be rude, but he did have beer breath, and I feel that sometimes boys do need a “Sunny 101”….
“I am not lonely darlin, I simply really enjoy hanging by myself, and I don’t call boys, boys call me, and I don’t even know your name so you definitely are not getting my number…if fact, instead of you telling me I look lonely, you introducing yourself might have come off better.”
He introduced himself…I totally forgot his name right away (I am so bad with names, jeezzzzz) than I asked him what he does with his time,a great ding dong indicator, and he replied,
“ Welllll, I get drunk, a lot….go to school and make beads….”
All right peeps….this is why I am going on Dating Restriction…well that and many other reasons…but a prime example.
The History of Dating Restriction…
I was first put on Dating Restriction 2 years ago by a very dear friend. I had left my husband about six months before, and did not have my own place to live so I was crashing at his and his wife’s house. I had come home from another most meaningless date, and let me tell you in Eugene, there were not a lot of “Sunny worthy” men…I thought if I guy had a job or just grew pot he was a winner….man san Francisco have I told you how much I love you lately….
anyhoo…
Pointless date with a chicken fucker.
The fact that I had left a man I had been with for 10 years, that everyone knew, in a small town definitely made it harder to date…totally…
As I said, the guy was a chicken fucker, and I was disappointed and my friend turned to me and piped..
“I am putting you on dating restriction, you keep going out on dates with idiots when you could be hanging with your friends, or working out or doing stuff that is good for you, instead of wasting your time on these chodes…..”
Well, let me tell you, unlike a name, that shit sank in.
Now over the years I have yelled “Dating Restriction” so many times you might all think I’m crying wolf…but seriously..
What is so great about Dating Restriction?
A. You finally get you some you.
Lovers come and lovers go, but I got me this whole time, who better to spend quality time with and put my energy into. When I date or see someone I put so much energy into them, and most of the time they fail to equally put energy into me, so I end up losing out. On Restriction, I don’t lose out.
B. I get treated the way I want.
I truly love me, so I don’t treat me bad…I treat me like a princess. My ex-husband used to ask me how I wanted him to treat me, I would say, “I want you tell me that I'm beautiful, that I am loved, I would like you to spend any..some, quality time with me. To go for a walk, to talk, to shut the TV, video games or the drama off and focus on each other. I would like you to say thank you for me dedicating my life to your dream, I want flowers..
something….anything…
I WANT TO BE TREATED LIKE A PRINCESS…”
He would tell me that me getting treated like a princess was a “Pipe Dream”
Well not only do I have one hell of a pipe, but my dream is awesomeness times 10, and my happiness is living proof.
I treat me like a princess and I fucking love it.
It makes me love me even more and makes me want to do better things for myself.
I don’t take away from my energy, I empower it.
C. I don’t get Disappointed.
I think this is The biggest one…I am so over the disappointment of guys not living up to their word…..”I’m going to treat you good, I will change, I’m telling the truth, I’m going to take you there, we are going to do this, this is what is going to be like…” BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH…..chicken fucker.
Seriously…shut the front door.
I’m over it.
I am so over getting disappointed and let down.
D. I can only get mad at me.
I really don’t like getting mad or disappointed in people. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I am this crazy ball of positivity, and me being pissed or angry is just not good for my being. I like to see people in the best of light, if we aren’t dating, I don’t mind if you let me down a little, we are all human….
And maybe that’s it.
Maybe all this time of being on Dating Restriction has made me so fiercely independent that I am scared of being let down, of making the same mistake I did with my husband, about taking away from my time to shine.
Maybe it is just me.
I have to come to that realization and deal.
Or maybe it’s that all the dudes are chicken fuckers….
Hmmmmm
Its up for grabs…totally
So until that one is figured out, I will be in my tower on the forth floor looking out my window…
Wait...fuck that,
I’m going to be out and about doing my thing. Treating me with most awesomeness.
And I won’t settle till I meet someone who is addicted to my pipe as much as I am…
Cause it smells good…TOTALLY….times 10.
Now how you like them apples…..
DANCE OF THE WEEK
The Penguin…
This is an owe so simply dance move, but owe so cute…
Put your wrists horizontally, so your hands stick out…get all stiff like and barely lifting your feet off the floor make small little steps…..and penguin walk….this is an awesome way to get through crowds, and if you can do it was having a joint hanging out of your mouth…well than you are one cool penguin.
A perfect example of why I am going on Restriction again is this:
I am at a bar playing solitaire
****please note****
I play solitaire at bars when I go there by myself with real cards so
A. I don’t just have to stare off into space.
B. I don’t have to pine to talk to ding dongs
C. If a ding dong comes and talk to me, I can ignore them and go back to my game.
D. and I like to play Solitaire, its fun for me.
So anyway this chicken fucker walks up to me and goes,
“What are you playing, solitaire, that is like you screaming ‘I’m Lonely’ you are to hot to do that, why don’ you take my number”
As I laughed in his face…I didn’t mean to be rude, but he did have beer breath, and I feel that sometimes boys do need a “Sunny 101”….
“I am not lonely darlin, I simply really enjoy hanging by myself, and I don’t call boys, boys call me, and I don’t even know your name so you definitely are not getting my number…if fact, instead of you telling me I look lonely, you introducing yourself might have come off better.”
He introduced himself…I totally forgot his name right away (I am so bad with names, jeezzzzz) than I asked him what he does with his time,a great ding dong indicator, and he replied,
“ Welllll, I get drunk, a lot….go to school and make beads….”
All right peeps….this is why I am going on Dating Restriction…well that and many other reasons…but a prime example.
The History of Dating Restriction…
I was first put on Dating Restriction 2 years ago by a very dear friend. I had left my husband about six months before, and did not have my own place to live so I was crashing at his and his wife’s house. I had come home from another most meaningless date, and let me tell you in Eugene, there were not a lot of “Sunny worthy” men…I thought if I guy had a job or just grew pot he was a winner….man san Francisco have I told you how much I love you lately….
anyhoo…
Pointless date with a chicken fucker.
The fact that I had left a man I had been with for 10 years, that everyone knew, in a small town definitely made it harder to date…totally…
As I said, the guy was a chicken fucker, and I was disappointed and my friend turned to me and piped..
“I am putting you on dating restriction, you keep going out on dates with idiots when you could be hanging with your friends, or working out or doing stuff that is good for you, instead of wasting your time on these chodes…..”
Well, let me tell you, unlike a name, that shit sank in.
Now over the years I have yelled “Dating Restriction” so many times you might all think I’m crying wolf…but seriously..
What is so great about Dating Restriction?
A. You finally get you some you.
Lovers come and lovers go, but I got me this whole time, who better to spend quality time with and put my energy into. When I date or see someone I put so much energy into them, and most of the time they fail to equally put energy into me, so I end up losing out. On Restriction, I don’t lose out.
B. I get treated the way I want.
I truly love me, so I don’t treat me bad…I treat me like a princess. My ex-husband used to ask me how I wanted him to treat me, I would say, “I want you tell me that I'm beautiful, that I am loved, I would like you to spend any..some, quality time with me. To go for a walk, to talk, to shut the TV, video games or the drama off and focus on each other. I would like you to say thank you for me dedicating my life to your dream, I want flowers..
something….anything…
I WANT TO BE TREATED LIKE A PRINCESS…”
He would tell me that me getting treated like a princess was a “Pipe Dream”
Well not only do I have one hell of a pipe, but my dream is awesomeness times 10, and my happiness is living proof.
I treat me like a princess and I fucking love it.
It makes me love me even more and makes me want to do better things for myself.
I don’t take away from my energy, I empower it.
C. I don’t get Disappointed.
I think this is The biggest one…I am so over the disappointment of guys not living up to their word…..”I’m going to treat you good, I will change, I’m telling the truth, I’m going to take you there, we are going to do this, this is what is going to be like…” BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH…..chicken fucker.
Seriously…shut the front door.
I’m over it.
I am so over getting disappointed and let down.
D. I can only get mad at me.
I really don’t like getting mad or disappointed in people. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I am this crazy ball of positivity, and me being pissed or angry is just not good for my being. I like to see people in the best of light, if we aren’t dating, I don’t mind if you let me down a little, we are all human….
And maybe that’s it.
Maybe all this time of being on Dating Restriction has made me so fiercely independent that I am scared of being let down, of making the same mistake I did with my husband, about taking away from my time to shine.
Maybe it is just me.
I have to come to that realization and deal.
Or maybe it’s that all the dudes are chicken fuckers….
Hmmmmm
Its up for grabs…totally
So until that one is figured out, I will be in my tower on the forth floor looking out my window…
Wait...fuck that,
I’m going to be out and about doing my thing. Treating me with most awesomeness.
And I won’t settle till I meet someone who is addicted to my pipe as much as I am…
Cause it smells good…TOTALLY….times 10.
Now how you like them apples…..
DANCE OF THE WEEK
The Penguin…
This is an owe so simply dance move, but owe so cute…
Put your wrists horizontally, so your hands stick out…get all stiff like and barely lifting your feet off the floor make small little steps…..and penguin walk….this is an awesome way to get through crowds, and if you can do it was having a joint hanging out of your mouth…well than you are one cool penguin.
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