Blog 41...How to be a Rock Star without Playing an Instrument...

Blog 41...How to be a Rock Star without Playing an Instrument...

I have the privilege of knowing some Rock Stars, and consider some of them my friends, and they have the extreme privilege of knowing me, and being my friend and besides myself being a princess, I am clearly a Rock Star, and I don’t even play an instrument...damm, did I just drop the microphone.

(just a little side note...we are all Rock Stars, you just might be hiding you inner Jagger, but baby, it’s in there...now high kick, point and scream)

So, how did I reach this Rock Star Status?

Welllllllll...practice, practice, practice, sheer luck, internal fire, watching shit, a sense of humor and one hell of an ass. (hey if it worked for Kim Kardashian, why they hell can’t it work for me.)

So Lessons I have Learned along the way...

-It is Okay to Take...

Now first and foremost, if you are ever in a green room at the end of a show and there is left over booze, beer, mixers, fresh juice, some fruit, good chips, Popeye’s, whatever, you got hands, pockets, a plastic bag that you fill up with Sierra Nevada’s and it rips in the van on the way back to the hotel...you will get thirsty later, you might get hungry, there might be a party...that shit comes in handy, and leftovers are always awesomeness, especially when it is rum.

And, not only are you helping yourself out but others too, this is a key element in being a Rock Star...Cause whatever you score, you share.

Some fan gives you some pot, you smoke some, but can’t take it on the plane, or you got given too much, you are a Rock Star, you give it to your friends, or your road crew...those are some hard working mother fuckers, or to another band to help them out, or the guy that gave you the good whiskey, the fan that said you changed his life or a cute-broke-red-headed princess that could always use more pot...totally.

Always say thank you, and make sure you pass on your fortunes.

-Keep your Private Side, Private.

No one wants to know what happens on the bus...unless it involves drugs, sex and rock and roll. Rock Stars aren’t rock stars cause they take a shit, contemplate their navel and cut their toenails. No No No...I don’t even go out if I am not in a good mood, cause if I am not 100% Sunny, I don’t want to put a lesser version of me out there.

And we all have bad days, and bad shows, but focusing on that side of it will not bring you the positive attention that a true Rock Star deserves.

-Say “Fuck It” and keep on Rocking you out.

Fergie pissed herself on stage and didn’t give a flying fuck, she kept on singing, than got booked for the Super Bowl where she sang that song from the “Dirty Dancing” soundtrack. Now as completely gross as I found the entire previous sentence, you got to give credit where credit is due. Cause not giving a shit that you pissed yourself in front of a butt load of people and just shrugging it off and continuing to rock yourself out takes some MASSIVE ROCK STAR BALLS right there.

I said it along time ago in Blog 2...”but when you learn not to give a flying fuck what other people think about you, you begin to love and accept yourself in ways that you never thought imaginable”

-Embrace you

I think this is what separates real Rock Stars from the wanna be.

A True Rock Star is all them all the time, they are okay with being in the box when they want to be and outside the box when they feel like it. It is all in what they are feeling. What makes them happy.

I am fucking awesomeness in a person, and not only that, I try my fucking hardest to be a good fucking person. You don’t like me, whatever, I respect your opinion, as you should respect mine...whatever makes you fucking happy, and whatever makes me happy...this is one of the key elements to Rock Star Status...being you, and letting others be who they want to be.

We all have our own lessons to learn in this life

-We Inspire Each Other

Even a Rock Star is inspired, WE ALL INSPIRE EACH OTHER. What Rock Star wouldn’t flip if they got to meet Stevie Wonder, the writer of their favorite song or the doctor that saved their momma’s life...

What you might consider a Rock Star, I don’t...just cause I pay to go see someone play music, does not make them a rock star, it makes them a musician. And musicians pay people to entertain them too, or to do shit for them...and I would bet my left breast they know people that don’t play and instrument that they consider Rock Stars.

An example of this in a good and bad way is the “Girls Gone Wild” dude.

Homie does not play an instrument but made a shit ton of money and got to hang out with cute, naked chicks and watch them make out...oh, and he owns and island, I’m giving him Rock Star Status, how he figured out that one, God only knows.

Now of course he had to be a dumb ass about shit and not do it proper and now he is in jail...which is how he dropped in the Rock Star Standing...(but when he gets out he will still have the island)

Which leads me to my last lesson, and one I have said many times...

- Try to Do it Right...and Learn along the Way

You show me a musician/band that has a following that follows them around the world, and I’ll show you someone who does that shit right (or is trying to) they put their hearts and souls into it.

And as you build your following you learn lessons along the way, and you learn from other's mistakes (don’t film under-aged girls doing naughty things to each other) And it is in that acceptance that we are all not perfect but we try, and in trying, sometimes we produce sound, laughter, things, beauty that move a people...and that my friend, makes you a FUCKING ROCK STAR...seeing that possiblity not only in yourself, but in others.

Who are you going to Move today, tomorrow?

Who are you going to Inspire?

How are you going to Encourage yourself to Shine?

Cause being a Rock Star, is bringing out the Rock Star in all of us, starting with you.

Now...Shine on...times 11.

DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK

LEG GUITAR (this dance was first done by a row of three hot ladies in matching long dresses at a Widespread Panic Show in Eugene, Oregon, many years ago)

Now this dance is an act of balance, and if you got some core muscle kicking, you should be in okay. Another important pre-game part to this dance is stretching out your hamstring, cause if you throw your leg up, well, let’s just say it is good to stretch. Now choke up on your ankle with your hand, make sure you have a good grip, bending your upper torso down a little to help you keep balance, use your free hand to start rocking that leg guitar out...see I knew you had that Rock Star in you.

Blog 40...Whoops, I did it Again, I Left the Tenderloin...and Survived.

Blog 40.....Whoops, I did it Again, I Left the Tenderloin...and Survived.

Whoops, I did it again, my dumb (but cute & sparkly) ass left the Tenderloin, but don’t worry peeps, I remembered my corkscrew. Surprisingly, I did not have to use it.

And I actually have been having quite a nice time here (man shit is way cooler when it is not snowing and you aren’t stuck in a house by yourself...just saying.)

And this small town is quite nice, reminds me of a place I lived for some time. I totally and completely understand the appeal. But I have said it once, and I’ll say it again, a small town, is a small town, and it ain’t got nothing on my city.

Now, if this small town changed a couple of key elements, I might consider moving...maybe, not really, but let us just put this figuratively...totally.

-California, I love you, I can smoke pot where ever the fuck I want, I can walk down the street, go to a show, walk outside a bar (there is one you can smoke pot in after 2am when they pretend to close...gotta love that.) I took an hour plus walk the other day here, could not smoke nothing, in fact, the house I am staying at, I can’t even go on the back porch an smoke, I thought I was suppose to be enjoying nature, this shit is wrong! Other states, you all really need to catch up on this not giving a shit about pot smoking. Hey it’s still illegal in California, we just don’t give a shit.

-Mosquitoes... Okay so I totally get that I taste good, but really. Flying malaria festers are everywhere round here, and they like me...times 11. And that shit itches like a mother fucker, and then I feel like I got bugs crawling up me all night cause I itch and once I realize a bug has been on me, I can’t stop thinking about it, and thinking about it, and wondering if that feeling is them crawling on me or me just being paranoid cause I don't want to get bit again....oh, oh, oh...it is still itching.

-I had mentioned the last time I left, that you got to drive in a small town, and driving, is not for this princess. I tried to walk more this trip, and let me tell you, it would have been a lot easier if you all had corner stores so I could get some cold water. I did not see one, till the very end of my walk, and my walk was hot as fuck, I would have loved to slip into some air conditioning and enjoy a tasty mojito, but alas, again, no bars on the walk, and no mojitos for this princess...

But my thirst did get quenched, and I eventually got a mojito too. And to be honest, I needed to get out of the fucking city for a moment. Cause as wonderful and fulfilling as the city is for me, and I do Love the City sooooo, like any relationship, it has a dark side. In a six month time period, I have watched a lady get hit and killed by a bus 6 feet in front of me, a teenage girl fall to her death 10 feet from me, saw 3 people that had been shot, saw a guy get stabbed, witnessed 2 people get hit upside the head with a bottle and a old homeless man get straight kicked in the head by a crackhead for no apparent reason. When the guy slouched over from being kicked, the crackhead just laughed.

Yes, getting away has been good for me, and I needed a rest, a change of pace, a new perspective.

And I could come back here, and maybe one day my perspective would take me to moving here, but not now, not soon...I still have chapters to finish in my city, maybe even more books.

Maybe the answer is I need to explore more, realize that there is so much more out there. How can I become a queen if I don’t experience and see all the kingdoms?

Sometimes you forget how small you are, and a reminder is always nice.

***please note***
The City could improve if more restaurants carried Sweet Tea in house (don’t be scarred peeps, sugar is okay...really.) AND BOYS HERE OPEN DOORS…not all, but a good 80%...and that shit is awesomeness...times 11, totally. But when is being proper not awesomeness...right?
Can we all just open doors for each other, come on, it really is okay to be nice to each other, to smile and say hi (but if you have been in the city for a while, the first few “hi” walk byes freak you the fuck out, but you acquire to it with ease.)***

So maybe the small town is for you, I really do get it and I even like the cricket sound track.

But San Francisco is where I was born and raised; it is where my family is. And I have not recovered from the ending of my last book, and even though I see so much craziness, I feel so safe in my home, with my family...the city is my security blanket.

And for me, the Tenderloin is a constant reminder that no matter how hard it is, how down I feel, I am one lucky ass bitch, and should feel blessed, cause shit could be a whole lot worse.

And when I see death and despair on such a daily basis...I never forget to live everyday like it was my last, to truly truly LIVE.

And I am only a princess, not yet a queen...and I still need those constant reminders...the realities of this journey.

But to play devil’s advocate with myself (for this is always good to do)

It does not matter where you are, but what you make of it.

I simply choose to “make it” in San Francisco.


DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK

I STUBBED MY TOE
(this dance move is similar to the “My Ankle Hurts” dance)

So, bring your foot to your opposite knee, either grab with both hands or with the opposite hand as the foot (I tried the same side thing, way harder, and if you throw you being loaded into the mix, bigger problems) You got a good grip on in, now say “Owwwwwwwww” and start to hop, hop, hop...that shit hurt, I think we have to hop our way over to a drink.

Blog 39........TO LOOK UP.........

Blog 39…………To Look Up……………

In the past few days, I found myself repeating a story many times, let me do it once more…………

The day I sold my restaurant a few years back, I remember a moment of clarity.

I had worked for years without a day off, lost a marriage, taken on stress beyond my years, became blinded from my path…………I was unhappy/over worked and knew it.

Due to the downfall of the economy and the fact that working with a man you had broken up with SUCKS ASS, we had pretty much given away the restaurant and lost a substantial amount of money....it was not the best way that it could have ended, it was not the worst.

I drove back home from signing the papers, part of me was in shock, had I really just handed over my life to a stranger for nothing? A thing that I had invested my life into, my blood, sweat and tears………gone………as quickly as I could sign my name.

The other part of me was in shock cause now, not only did I have a day off, but I had a shit ton of days off and nothing to really do……………

I stopped at a red light……….

and, I looked up.

At the moment I was hit with a blast of clarity.

I had not looked up in years.

I had been so focused on the restaurant, on the work and the stress, that I had neglected the sky. I had ignored it all, and forgotten the simply pleasure that looking around can give you.

I had forgotten to take it all “in.”

And as I looked up and people started to honk behind me, I pulled over, leaned my seat back and starred out my sunroof. I don’t remember how long I gazed up, but I knew each breath I took filled my body with clarity.

The notion hit that life is not all about work and stress........it is about enjoyment and living. And for years of my life, I had spent too much time working and not enough time living.

The next few days energized me with new life. I went to a café and had coffee and just people watched, I took psychedelics and went with my boom box and sat by the river, watching it go by, listening to LEGION OF MARY, I saw the notes of music twist with the current of the water and roll away.

And I looked up……………so much so, my neck fucking hurt.

It is something I do every morning now, I even have my bed situated so I can see the sky when I awake and go to bed. I never close my blinds, I always want to be able to see the sky.

When I walk my miles around the city, I’ll give the sidewalk a “shit check” and then gaze up, getting lost in the cool architecture and the whispering clouds. At night the stars fill the dome above with glittering lights that I zone out in.

I have learned the art of “people watching” and of simply "watching."

When I tell people how old I am they seemed surprised, they tell me I look younger, funny thing, the day I sold my restaurant people began telling me I looked 10 years younger.

I have learned to simply take it all in.

And in taking it all in I have mellowed, became less stressed (remember, I’m just to blessed) When you are able see the big picture, the problems, the stress, all that seems so minute compared to the whole.

Sometimes we become so focused that we ignore all the components to life, but it is not just one thing that makes us happy, that stresses us out, that makes or breaks us……………

The day I looked up, my eyes became open, and not only was I able to look up, but also around.

Looking straight ahead leads to tunnel vision, and leads to stress which makes you look WAY older.

And tunnel vision makes everything in front of you look so big and massive, when you spin around, the problems blend with the good and you realize how balanced life really is.

So if you are feeling stressed, or lost, or just in need of a new perspective………………LOOK UP.

(just be sure if you are walking you scope the street for shit, cause some of us are not the best at the “Tenderloin Shit Shuffle”………just saying.)

DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK

FIGHTING THE FIRE……(part two)

All right, start loading up on the truck……ohhhhhhhh, you get to be the back driver guy, remember you got to take the turns big and you really swing being back there……whoaaaaaaaaaaa………we are here, everyone hop off the truck. It is a big fire, put the latter up. Climb the latter one step at a time. Break the window……OH NO, a cat is trying to escape, but it is scared, there is only one thing to do, toss the cat out the window (this is not animal cruelty, you are trying to save the cat and they are suppose to land on their feet, so here is hoping) Now it is hose time. Start to pull the hose to where you need to go, man this thing is heavy, now you need to brace yourself....squatting will help with the force of the water and improve your ass (a twofer)………spray the water back and forth, yikes, duck, got to be careful of those flying cats………totally.

Blog 38.....I'm too Blessed to be Stressed

Blog 38...I’m too Blessed to be Stressed...

Shit has been a little crazy for me lately. And I have been stressed. Stress does not suit me well, in fact, it makes me quite sick.

I have been stressed about shit I don’t need to be stressed about, and about a feeling I have, this has been the worst, because it is an unknown feeling. I have this premonition...that something big is going to happen, that a shift is coming in my life, and I have no idea what direction it will go...I feel it, brewing on the horizon……and it is freaking me the fuck out.

But why?

It could be a good change, it could be what I need, if it is bad, it is happening for a reason, and good should happen from it………I HAVE GOT TO STOP FREAKIN OUT ABOUT SHIT THAT HASN’T HAPPENED YET...times 10……totally.

I was hanging out with a friend the other day and he turned to me and said,
“After all, I’m too blessed to be stressed”

“Amen” came to mind……let’s discuss.

I close my eyes to think about that phrase and what it really means………

Break Down Time……

-I’m alive, I’m kicking, and I’m not going down with out a fucking fight……high five me. Bring on the fight, it only makes me stronger.

-I live in America……hey, you can even say it the red-neck way, I don’t give a shit...and while it would be awesome to live in Canada or France, I am still blessed as hell to live here, where I can say what I want, dress how I want, it’s cool that I’m a chick (way more than cool) and so forth, fuck it...go USA……totally...

-I live in California, where people are cool with pot. I can smoke walking down the street, in venues, pretty much where the fuck ever, and if they don’t want me smoking they will ask me to stop, not freaking arrest me. Here people grow pot as a career choice and it truly is a way of life. I was at a Panic show at The Fox and some security lady tried to give me shit for smoking pot……I turned to her and said, “Darlin...three things, This is The Fox, This is California, and This is Widespread Panic...don’t waste your time...thank you, and have a great night.” And continued smoking my pipe.

Now that is some blessing bitches.

-I call San Francisco my home……………awesomeness in a city. I have more music than I know what to do with and the people here are loving and excepting (for the most part)……a perfect example of this is at the restaurant that I work at (one of my many jobs.) My head chef is a total loon, my executive chef is a man, who was born a woman who rocks a rainbow mohawk and is awesomeness, the sous chef is a total stand up guy who is covered in head to toe tattoos, I wear glitter and am a total ding dong who has dance parties with coworkers during my shift...like the gay server, that also wears glitter and has a mohawk. We also had another chick with a mohawk but now she is just rocking the shaved head, our hostess is from South Africa and has the sexy voice...and so forth and so forth…………MELTING POT, you bet bitches, and we all respect each other…………for the most part, as long as we are doing our job, because that is the shit that really matters.

-I’m me……and me is AWESOMENESS.
I was having ding dong-stressy thoughts about my man love….(because that is what girls do) and my sous chef turned to me and said, “come on Sunny, you know you have a light inside of you.”….and he doesn’t even read my writing, he just knows. And I know, so why do I even stress, I’m a good person, I’m freakin awesomeness, anyone who doesn’t see that is more of a ding dong than I am……and that is a lot of ding dong. But people do see it, and I am loved, and I AM JUST STRESSING OVER NOTHING……

Cause let me tell you,

I am too blessed to be stressed.

See sometimes you got to hit yourself upside the head.

Sometimes I forget to breathe and focus on what is simply in front of me.

The stressing, the fretting, the pouting, all that shit is not good for me……(and I think causes more wrinkles)

So whatever shift I feel brewing on the horizon, I am ready, willing and waiting…………………and totally enjoying the colors.


DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK

***this is a two part dance move, the second part will be in the next blog***

FIGHTING THE FIRE (part one)

Alright, you are sleeping, an alarm sounds off and you, only for an instant, put your hands to your ears, (cause you know that shit is loud as fuck.) now jump up, quick stretch, time is of the essence. Run to the poll, and spin as you slide down...now time to get the hot fireman outfit on……whoop whoop……(that was a mental note, not a dance move)………anyhoo, step into the boots and the outfit, zip it up………totally, don’t forget the hat…………and dash for the truck, dooooohhhhh, got to open the door before you jump in, but hey, you did just wake up…………to be continued


P.S………A special thanks to my older sister who created this dance move, is awesomeness & her and my brother-in-law pay for my internet, which just…………leaves me speechless on a constant basis……another blessing…………


P.P.S………I miss Jerry………sixteen years later, I still remember the day……………but aren’t we blessed that we had him at all………….

Blog 37...Crack Head Pick Up Lines...(Part One)

Blog 37...Crack Head Pick Up Lines...(Part One)


So Crack Heads...I’m just going to put it all out there...92.7% of you, suck at the ole pick up lines. Like Seriously...times 11.

Now granted, there are exceptions to every rule, and I must say, there have been times where I have been floored, in awe, a big smile has spread over my face or simply had my heart melt at the most beautiful things that a stranger has said to me.

Yet most of the time, my mouth drops open, I fall over into a giggling/snorting fiasco, mentally stab them in the eye with my corkscrew, or get the…”what the fuck just crapped out of your mouth” look on my face (which mind you is not my favorite look.)

Now Granted, I do not help this situation out that much.

I walk through the Tenderloin at crazy hours...I get off of work in between 12am and 2am and I walk home, and yes I am freakin nuts, so I usually walk through the heart of the tenderloin (it has the best incline for my butt as I walk) I am in my princess dress, I am sparkly, have bright red hair, and then there is the matter of my ass...totally.

I do not fair much better in the day time and since I walk to work every day, and once again, usually tenderloin cut it to Market street...(let’s be honest here peeps, I don’t have a TV and I need some entertainment, and the “Tenderloin” channel is interesting as fuck, and distracts me enough that I can zone out before I go to work)

Now I also butt walk through a part of the Tenderloin, but head to TenderNob for most of my walk. Yet for the couple blocks the heckling is fierce and I’m just in a baseball hat and my workout gear, so I really don’t feel like I deserve the lude verbal assaults I get...but with an ass like mine, it is hard.

Pick Up Lines That Crack me the Fuck Up...

-“Do you Want to come in this doorway sexy.”

-“I would trade all my oxy for you”

-“I want to eat you” (cannibal)

-“I want to suck your toes”
(side note: this one kind of grossed me out more than it made me crack up, I wear flip flops, thick ones, but I am tenderloin tromping...grossness times 11)

-“I want to motorboat your ass” (this one made me giggle)

-“Its time to flip the hourglass over”

-or there is the guy that just always blocks my path and starts to make these weird noises like “ommmmm” “ufffffommu” “ahuppahaupa”

Now a majority of Tenderloin pick up lines are just lame. And any decent lady that has walked through the Tenderloin, you know you average about 5 a block.

Crack heads, if you all want to out shine the competition you might have to come up with something better than “hot damm, girl, you are looking fine as fuck”...Honey, I know this, I looked in the mirror before I headed out the door. And don’t start yelling at me when I don’t turn or respond to you. I don’t respond usually to catcalls. I don’t respond to honks. And I totally don’t respond to “Hey Red, Hey Red, Hey Red, I’m talking to you Red, hey Red with the ass, hey I’m talking to you, hey”...this might be the person I am mentally stabbing with my corkscrew...maybe.

I only respond when they have merit.

There is a crack head that I have never introduced myself to, yet every time I approach his corner he starts to belt out, “I got sunshine, on a cloudy day...” and sings me the song with one hand on his heart as I pass. He gets a smile and the first time, my heart melted a little.

The man that said when I was in my sparkly dress, “Mama, I just have to tell you, You look funky- beautiful-groovy” totally got a thank you.

There are the handful of Crack Heads that have introduced themselves to me. I am always polite and introduce myself back, it is only proper. They then tell me I look nice, I say, “thank you darlin” and whenever I see them they say...
“Looking good today Sunny.” And I smile and tell them to have a wonderful day.

If it is proper, I am always going to respect it, if its not, I am going to stay in my awesome bubble that I rock when I walk in the Tenderloin...I’m just in the bubble watching the TV station, cracking up and at the same time, wishing I could help these people, wondering what makes them tick.

Then I cross Market St. and hit the Mission Channel, and that is a whole other blog...totally.

DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK

(for any of you who travel a lot, this one might hit home)


GOING THROUGH SECURITY

All right, first, you have got to wait in line, man this is taking a while, you might have to rest you head on your friend’s shoulder (I don’t recommend resting your head on a stranger’s shoulder they might get mad.) You are at the front of the line now, take off your shoes, your jacket, your hat, your belt, crap...hold those pants up peeps. How many of these trays do you need, damm, alright all your stuff is on the convayer belt now...time for the beeping thingy, nope, never clear, something has gone off, now due to new regulations comes the fun part. Have your friend/or loved one, come up and do the feeling up/pat up and in part of the dance. I usually do a little shake after this part, finally, we are through, now where the hell are my shoes, and for the love of all that is holy, put your belt on.

Blog 36.......GENERATION SLACK ASS

Blog 36…………GENERATION SLACK ASS

This princess has a problem....and it is with GENERATION SLACK ASS………(you all know at least one person from this generation, if not a plethora)

Nut the fuck up peeps, we got to work, and even if you don’t, don’t you want to do something, and if you do something, don’t you want to be fucking good at it……In fact, why do anything, if you ain’t going to do it right.

What is the point of doing anything half-ass...the only thing it does is make more people want to be half-ass too, and that does not help anybody.

I see it in every aspect of my life, and it sucks, it doesn’t make me want to try any harder to improve and get shit done, and lets be honest, I gotta get stuff done, and I always have to improve, cause if I’m not going up, I’m going down and that is the wrong direction (welllllllll, get your mind out of the gutter)

I want a kingdom that encourages me to shine, to do my best, to work my hardest so that I can honestly say, “I DID THE BEST I FUCKING COULD”

Now granted, I am all about rest and vacation, and even though I haven’t really taken a vacation in……………a long ass time, I know for a fact, when I do, I will be the best fucking vacationer I can be. Also, if I can’t rest good, I don’t rest, why waste the precious time.

There is a time and a fucking place for everything.

Let’s start with me...
I like having a great ass and looking good, but if I’m lazy and don’t work out, I feel like shit, I don’t fit into my princess dresses as good as when I butt walk every day, and when my ass gets spanked, the guy doesn’t slap himself in the face with the recoil, what fun is that.

Let’s talk about friendships………
I make a point, even if I do it while butt walking, to call friends I really care about, or shoot them a text, or hit them up on facebook...do I have time? No....Can I hear anything on the phone?....No, but I make an effort, sometimes I will run myself around for other people, just cause I care. Because friendship is fucking important to me, so I know I have to make an effort. And showing, not just telling people that we care about them, is one of the nicest things that we can do for anyone.

Let’s talk about relationships....
Relationships are a constant effort. Because if you think someone is worth the effort, than you always need to give that effort, and the moment you stop, is the moment that they find someone else, who is willing to give them what you are slacking on, or they realize (or think) that they are better off alone. Cause WE ARE ALL WORTH THE EFFORT………the moment the effort stops, is the moment you loose, or doubt creeps in, and doubt, never is the right direction. (aka, don’t be a half-ass in a relationship, it will not end good, give it 150% all the time, and you will be amazed at the levels it can reach, or just nut up about being a slack ass and be a single half-ass...no one can hate you for being honest)

Let’s just talk about life………
My mom gave me one of the most solid pieces of advice ever in life, when I decided to leave my husband. My dog had died, I suddenly realized how alone and unhappy I was (a story I will tell one day) I headed to my parents house to tell them I wanted a divorce, that I was done………I could hang no longer. My mom looked at me and said, “This is your husband, you are married, if you are really really done, you go back and you give it 150%, you try your fucking hardest, you start with a clean slate and be the best, most loving and kind wife that you can be, you let things go and just love him, give all that you can, and once you have given him that, YOU WILL EITHER SAVE YOUR RELATIONSHIP AND BRING IT TO A WHOLE NEW LEVEL, OR YOU WILL BE PISSED OFF ENOUGH TO LEAVE.” (I trusted her advice...the 38+ years of marriage she has on her side made it’s hard not to believe.)

She told me that in June, I left at the end of December. And I did, give it all that I could, and I really tried to make my marriage work, and I have no regrets about leaving my ex-husband, cause I did everything I could to save my marriage, and in doing that, I found the courage to leave it, to wait, to hold out, until I can one day find someone who gives it 150% all the time.

And ever since I left my ex-husband, that has been my motto in life....

150%........as much as I can.

Now granted, I get tired, and annoyed and frustrated, and of course, am human. But I make a constant effort to always give it all I can, and to always surround myself with people that are about doing it right.

Cause people that just do it wrong, just piss me the fuck off…………I will just do it my own damm self.


When I surround myself with generation slack ass, I become a slack ass……………and honey, there ain’t nothing slack about my ass…………totally.

And when I get lost, or get a weird feeling about someone or something, I give it 150% to see which way I should go or what I should believe.

I don’t want to be the person left standing around alone in a house that doesn’t stand, cause I didn’t build it right. I want to be surrounded by my true friends, family and lovers……that I know care about me as much as I care about them.

Cause that just feels GOOD.

And feeling good is awesomeness……times 11.

Remember...There is always ways to improve, and the moment we become stagnant is the moment we stop living.

And why be alive if we aren’t living.

DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK

(While I have this great, awesome, silly white girl dance move for this week, it must be saved for the next, because there is a time and place for everything………and only one dance move fits this bill)

GIVING IT 150%

This week, whatever you do, do it fucking right, give it all that you can, and if you can’t do something the best you can, don’t do it. Whether it is your work, your friendships, your relationship, or your fucking self....do that shit with 150% behind it. You will find out who and what is important to you. You will find out who is generation slack ass, and who is about building a kingdom. And at the end of the week, one side will be the half asses, and I’ll be smoking a victory bowl with my 150 percenters.

And see how good you fucking feel then.

Blog 35....To Love....(Love Tales....Part 3)

Blog 35...To Love...(Love Tales...Part 3)

If only these weren’t my diaries, maybe I would not have to be so honest.


Shut the front door, I think I’m in love……and it’s wierding me the fuck out a little…(a lot.)

Since leaving my husband two and half years ago, I have been “anti love.” I mean I have tried the whole dating thing, many times. I tried the flings, tried relationships, but it just wasn’t my thing, I wasn’t into it at all. I met some fabulous men (and some true chicken fuckers/chode miesters) but even though some cut the bar, I let none stay...I did let one linger. I wanted my space and my opportunities.

I felt that in a relationship, I would not have my time to shine, to be me, or to be free. That I would never find anyone who would treat me the way I wanted to be treated. Yet I was basing this on my past relationships and dealings with men.

And of course, I needed time to heal.

And my prior relationships not being what I thought “good” to be, was also my responsibility, my ex, while being a total chicken fucker, was not the only one that sabotaged our relationship.

I came into my marriage, with no self-confidence, no direction, and no thoughts of “me”...my prior experiences with men were mostly painful, and haunt me to this day. When I met my ex, almost 13 years ago, I thought the idea that he wanted to be with me was good enough, and the fact of the matter is, while I am sure I loved him, I don’t know how I could have been in love with him, if I never was in love with myself.

Yet what a difference 13 years make. For the first time that I can remember, I am in love with me, and know I won’t settle for anything that isn’t exactly what or who I want. And know that no matter what, even if I am by myself for the rest of my life, I will entertain the fuck out of me, and be damm happy with it.

The last thing I needed was faith in myself.

Faith that I am making the right decision, and not fear I was making the wrong.

The Fear of making a mistake that lasts me 10 years again, had paralyzed me. Yet am I not the one who talks about how fear is such a waste of time, and in the span of our life time, and what follows, what is 10 years, but a small moment, in the many lives I have to come. And if fear is a waste of my thought process, than as I have also said, I need to start “walking the walk, and not just talking the talk.”

There is a man I have loved for a while now, and who I let linger because I knew in my heart his veracity as a man, his heart, his pureness. From a very early time in our meeting, I knew that I had loved him in a life before and would love him in a life again.

He asked me to learn how to be content, to have faith, to believe in him. Because as much as I believe myself to be positive, when it came to matters of my heart, I could not believe.

But to move forward, to move away from being petrified, I must have faith. And why in the world would I not want to be content. A content person, is the woman who I wish to be.

And while he is no perfect prince, I am no perfect princess.

And yet we love with a love that is more than love. I and my Papi.

So I made a decision...to love, to truly love, to let go of the fear, to not be the woman curled in the corner not letting any one in, but to release.

And for the first, ever I think, I am in love.

This man and I, we have seen the imperfections in each other, and yet we still love, we have let each other come to our own conclusions about the other, and we still love. And I feel its depth, its roots starting, the seed has sprouted.

For the first time in my life, I made love, and I am still baffled by it and shocked and shaky (in the good kind of shaky ☺…tee hee hee)...and ohhhhh, how I have been missing out, let me tell you.

I didn’t know a connection like that could exist.

Of course this totally might be contributed to the massive amounts of psychedelics I now take, that one is up for grabs, but hell, what a fucking trip.

And whether this trip lasts for a brief moment in time or spans many life times, for the first time in a long time, I am simply content with the fact that I have learned what this feeling is, for I had no idea.

And no matter what I would do it again, because this is a lesson, so worth learning, and I feel simply privileged.

I don’t even desire a seatbelt for this ride...look out for flying red heads...totally.

I will still probably be shaking when I land.



DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK

A HOLE IN ONE

(this dance move was inspired by a crazy ass crack head, an let me just give you a move for move replay of his dance.)

You have the option of having your butt crack hanging out, this is just how the dude rolls...

Turn to the side, lining up your feet with your shoulders. Grab the golf club with a tight grip, swing your arms and the club back, take a deep breath, and SWING………don’t forget about your follow through. Now shade your eyes so you can watch your ball, man that one went far, keep watching, its still going, shut up...HOLE IN ONE, celebration dance time, oops don’t let the pants drop further...ahhhhhhh, sometimes its to late.

Blog 34.......What defines a Ding Dong?

Blog 34………What defines a Ding Dong?

As a tromped my loaded, but very cute & sparkly ass around the Widespread motherfucking Panic shows this weekend, a thought popped in my head, “There are a lot of freaking ding dongs in this place”....(and I liked it)

Let’s start at the beginning. What defines a Ding Dong?..........

Good Question.

My version of ding dong comes from a friend up in Eugene who taught me the word(s). He is a perfect example. He is a wonderful, kind hearted person who is full of love and good intentions, that being said, he can do or say something stupid from time to time because he is human and shit happens, and we all get loaded. And sometimes when he fucks up or says something that makes you go “huh” he just looks at you and says, “I am such a ding dong” and his wonderful and beautiful lady responses with a, “Wellllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll.”

They are a couple of super cute ding dongs, those two.

One of my fondest “ding dong” moments with him was when we were all up in a hotel in Portland. I had passed out early due to ‘left turn’ shots and I guess while I was sleeping, pizza was ordered. Well, I awoke to a trashed hotel room with almost every piece of linen imaginable covered with tomato sauce. As I examined the tornado of sauce on my way to the bathroom, I pondered how I could have slept through such a storm. The bathroom was even more haggard with a piece of pizza in the toilet that someone had eaten all the topping off of. I tried to flush, nothing. I got my shoes on to go to the lobby to pee and ding dong awoke and I asked him what the hell happened last night (just as the ding dong I was sharing a bed with farted in his sleep) Ding dong gave me the look of non-remembrance, and I informed him of the piece of pizza in the toilet.

He than asked me with a sheepish look if someone had eaten the topping off of it……
I gave him the look....
He told me to flush....
I told him I did....
He said “do it again”....
I came out of the bathroom with a “prognosis negative” response....
“Flush again.” Was his answer....

Well obviously this was not the first rodeo that this ding dong had experienced with pizza in the toilet, cause, third time was the charm peeps.

See the thing is, we are all ding dongs, whether we pass out loaded, fart and don’t hear it even though every else does (and smells it) toss half eaten pizza in the toilet and play touch football with the linens to clean our hands, its not anything we meant to do, it just happened....and that is life.

I am a ding dong, I say and do stupid shit all the time, I don’t mean to, but hey, I’m human. And being human and a ding dong, go hand and hand.

I get introduced to a famous musician, and think it is totally someone else, and say the totally wrong thing and they get mad at me, whoops, ding dong move.

I dance stupid white girl dances on the dance floor.

I get so loaded at shows on psychedelics that I can’t really talk and still attempt to………ding dong move, (I can’t really even hear what people are saying at shows which is why I say, “Totally” so much)

Because I have been hurt so much I am scared of love………I need to get over that shit

And you can be a dumb or a smart ding dong…….

Like the dumb ding dong that spilled beer all over my sparkly dress during panic as he was trying to hit on me………

Or me acting like a smart ding dong (can you believe it) remembering that The Fox has floor vents so I grooved over one until my dress was dry, whose thinking bitches.

Then there was the stunned ding dong that pretty much turned, stood and starred at me when I moved upstairs next to him on the balcony, and after five minutes came two inches from my face and as he spit talked told me he “felt my dance moves”…………yeah that totally didn’t weird me out……but we all can act like ding dongs in front of hotties…………and I was wearing the sparkly dress.

And you gotta realize I see some ding fucking dongs in the Tenderloin.

The not thinking hippie chick that walks around barefoot in the Tenderloin....I know, I know, you want to feel the earth, but I just don’t think she gets the layer of pure grossness that is on top of the “tenderloin earth.” And if she saw what I see on a daily basis go on that sidewalk, maybe she would not make that ding dong move.

The crack head that is shaving his legs right in front of my house with the electrical shaver, even though the cord is wrapped around his leg (you got to plug that shit in ding dong)

My friend who is a total ding dong and went into one of the “massage parlors” in the tenderloin actually looking for a real massage....oh that must have been an experience, at least he knew what was up when they asked him about a “happy ending”

A ding dong is a ding dong, and we ding and dong through life, sometimes dinging the right stuff and donging the wrong, but we always bounce back, because we try our best.

I have found the easiest thing to do, it to embrace my inner ding dong, and just roll with it. We all have it inside, we might as well rock it to the best of our abilities……

You ding dong you……wellllllllllll.


DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK

(thinking of my friends in Eugene, brought this dance move back to mind, why it took so long I have no idea)

THE SHOPPING CART (and other variations)

CLASSIC SHOPPING CART: Put your hands on the Handle bar and start to push, grabbing items off each side of the shelf and putting them in your cart……don’t forget that from time to time you have to read the ingredients.

THE ANGRY SHOPPING CART: With your hands on the Handle bars walk briskly and angrily through the isles, throwing things in your cart, crap you grabbed the wrong thing, toss it out and slam the right thing in your cart, run over the old lady, you are in a hurry here....

THE MIDGET SHOPPING CART: Yes this is wrong, but fuck it, (please note, this dance is best done on grass or a soft surface) get down on your knees and put your hands on the handle bar and repeat the “classic shopping cart.”

Blog 33..... A visit with Yoda

Blog 33 …………A visit with Yoda


As I hit the Sherlock and passed the pipe to my friend, he turned to me and said, “We are going to meet Yoda today, I wonder if he lives on the top of a hill with flowers where he sits and writes.”

As we passed the Lazy River Road and reached the final turn we began to ascend to the top of a steep hill, beautiful flowers adorned the house on the peak, my friend turned and said……”I knew it, my vision was correct.”

We all pilled out of the car and as we approached the bottom of the steps, a vision of Althea greeted us, an eloquent beauty from the inside out, a “pureness” dripped off her handshake. As we began to walk up the stairs Yoda peeped his head over the fence, a warm smile, a calming gaze, a vision of light. I felt blinded instantly by not only the veracity of what I was experiencing but also the emanating wonder that poured out of him. I was amazed to “almost” silence (I think it is impossible for me not to say anything)

Ladies and Gentlemen, if I have a light that shines from me, Yoda has a sun that shines from him, and is the source of our light, he has encouraged our growth with his light.

There were points in the afternoon that I had to stable myself in reality, because I had never seen one like this.

Yoda didn’t live in a Palace or a mansion, nothing was opulent, but simply perfect. As you walked into the beautiful home you felt the love that had happened here, the love that would still happen here. A warmth only a true family could build filled this house. It was obvious, They Love Each Other.

And the more of Yoda’s family and friends I met, the more humbled I was. The more “Presence” I experienced.

As I walked the terraced gardens, the smell of clarity was in the air. It Must Have Been the Roses, for it was sweet and divine, and filled my mouth with the taste of synergy.

Now Yoda knew how to eat, as any proper Yoda should. That food was fucking awesomeness times 11, totally. Talk about a spread, shut the front door. (there was also a princess that kept on filling my glass with some serious cocktails)

I felt like I was in the garden of fucking eden.

And as Yoda and his Angel Gabriel’s played by the pool…..I had a High Time taking it all in.


I looked around and made sure I had a mental picture of everything. The house at the top of the hill with mouthwatering views, the family style picnic table, the Scarlet Begonias, the throne chairs, the hill of lush landscapes and swings, the people, the love that they had between each other, it was a lesson on what life should be and could be, if you only let it.

There Comes a Time when, unfortunetly, you have to leave Yoda’s house. If I could only be a guitar hanging on his wall, a new notion of heaven has filled my head.

And as we left, one of my friends said something like, “he has created a life that should be.”

My visit with Yoda changed me……………

Like a Ripple, in still water.


DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK

To the right, to the left.

All right, so start by moving to the right, do it twice, now to the left, and repeat. Now lead with your right hand, give it a little twist, and again………move it to the left, shaking down now that hand, repeat...let’s get the legs involved, you know what to do, we be dancing and keeping it balance...whoop whoop bitches.

Blog 32.........Are you Lucky or just Dumb........

Blog 32……………Are you Lucky or just Dumb……………


I read a story when I was young, I forgot what it was called or who the fuck wrote it, but it was about a society that was a utopia. Everything was awesomeness times 11, except for the fact that in order for everything to be so awesome, this one boy had to be locked up in a cage in a room, and as long as he was locked up and in pain, everything would be groovy for everyone else.

Sounds fucked up, right, and yet isn’t that life.

As I was a passenger in a car riding home from the Harmony Festival late night a few weeks ago, we passed a car that had been pulled over by the cops………and while I felt sad for the people that the cops were ticketing, part of my head thought, “I’m glad they got them and not me.”

Now I am well aware that it was rude as fuck for me to have thought that, but I am simply being honest here peeps.

I mean, were we just lucky, and the other person dumb……or was it our turn to be lucky and the next time it will be the guy pulled over who drives on by.

Were we pushing or luck? Isn’t life about pushing your luck……… And when you fail, are you simply living or just dumb?

I feel that I am a lucky ass person, I mean, some peeps are way luckier than I am, ummmmm....those who get to travel around the world, those in a great relationship, those who don’t count dollars to get morning tea, those with their dream job who didn’t waste years of their life trying to make some else’s dream job happen……………you all are lucky as fuck.

And I am lucky as fuck……I am an awesome & beautiful woman that actually realizes and sees that in myself, I live in a most wonderful city times 10, I am blessed to have the greatest family a girl could ever imagine to ask for and be witness to the phenomenal relationship my parents have (which kinda screws me for relationships because theirs is really that freakin awesome……….or am I just dumb cause I look at it like that) and OMG...have you seen my ass……that has got to be some luck baby.

I guess the reality of the situation is that we are all lucky as fuck………we are breathing, we have each other, we are obviously some what well off enough that we are reading this off a computer or some fancy ass phone that I personally have no idea how to use………how can we not be lucky.

When did things stop being lucky and start being dumb.
“I was lucky enough to wake up this morning”
“I woke up this morning”
“Can you believe my dumb ass woke up this morning”

I guess it is how you look at it…………

Maybe everything is both luck and idiocy rolled into one.

-I was DUMB enough to leave a relationship I had worked on for 10 years to think I deserved better instead of sticking it through and growing something life lasting.
-I was LUCKY enough to find the strength to leave a relationship that I was unhappy in and am blessed to be able to now live my life in the way I want and see fit and not anyone else’s ideologies.

-My DUMB ass has never been so lonely and introverted.
-My LUCKY ass had never felt more happy, beautiful or confident.

-Can you believe my DUMB ass lives in the Tenderloin, where I see on average Crack being smoked 25 times a day, get over 30 cat calls a day and have to walk around with a corkscrew out at night.
-Can you believe my LUCKY ass lives in the Tenderloin, where I am surrounded by over 25 art studios and over 30 restaurants (at least,) where I can pretty much walk to any part of this wonderful city and see all that it has to offer. And that unlike a lot of people, when I say, I live in the City....I fucking mean it.


We all have to be Dumb in order to be Lucky, we all have to be dumb to learn. And learning helps us not to “push” our luck, which in turn helps shift our luck in the right direction.

Is there such a thing as “dumb luck” or is it just the universe going……

”Shit Happens”

or as my amazing father says……”Shift Happens”

DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK…..

………SHIT HAPPENS………

So ladies and gentlemen get your groove going, lean a little to the left, and shake it on down now, have you started to feel the beat, now just as you are about to hit the Sherlock………SOME CRAZY ASS FUCKING SHIT HAPPENS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU………stop mid-dance move, drop your mouth wide open, point……turn to the person next to you, did they see that………start explaining, you can't even talk, wow……I sometimes have to put both my hands on my knees to really absorb what I saw, shake it off……maybe hash on the pipe will help you comprehend, big hit time…………but remember peeps, this is life, so we got to keep on dancing, another hit....lean to the right, start to feel the beat again, and shake it on down now………………

Blog 31.....Adventures of a CHODE HUNTER (part one)

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.

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.

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……

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.

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.

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.”

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

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.