Hi Y’all

Turns out I’m not dead after all. I confess I have felt that way, at least sexually for a while. A sexual zombie. That is what I’ve been. But I’m waking up. Slowly. It’s like coming out of a very thick fog. One where what’s ahead could be anything. But you don’t know. And don’t care.

I’m not sure how much I care yet. But at least I’m waking up.

Lost Boy

You peek out from the green, leafy branches, nothing showing but your eyes and the tip of your brown nose. A beautiful wild thing you are. So brave. And a mixture of curiosity tempered by caution. Not for your safety. No. 

It is your freedom that you guard with such zeal. The twigs in your hair, the dirt under your nails a badge of honor, marking you as untamed. One of the Lost Boys of Neverland. 

To give chase is foolish. I could never catch you. Instead I back away, leaving you to resume your wild, roaming play. 

But you do not leave. The soft sweet smelling creature you see intrigues you. You want to touch. So you come closer. 

For inside the man the Lost Boy lives, forever playing tug-a-war with the opposite desires of unruly freedom and tender sanctuary.  

Come. Lay your head of tangled curls on my lap for a moment. Let me gently tend your cuts, your bruises. Now, off you go. Quickly, before the comfort weakens you. 

I see him you know. The Lost Boy in you. Does he see the Wendy Darling in me? 

Image credits: https://www.paigeeworld.com/u/nati2015

It’s Finished

I just finished the last line to the story about The Australian.

But I’m not posting it just yet. No. Instead I will be reposting the story from start to finish over the next few days. So for those of you who’ve read it before… I’ll be sure to mark the new content. And for those of you who will be reading it for the first time… let it begin.

Much love to you all.

Mississippi Trees

The trees in Mississippi grow wide and tall, flanking the road like old, obese soldiers. Upon their branches they drape the prize of their lady, her silver green hair hanging in matted tendrils, catching the softest breeze. 

The sky loses importance in Mississippi. It’s there, but nothing more than a background for all the glorious green that floods the earth. Stand still too long in that southern state and the green will engulf you. 

Good thing I like green. 


I’m Always a Woman

I was deboning chicken when Billy Joel’s “She Always a Woman” began playing. My hips began to sway and the lyrics seemed louder than usual.

She can kill with a smile
She can wound with her eyes
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
She hides like a child
But she’s always a woman to me
I do this. I lie. I use my eyes and my smile like weapons. I distract. I put on a mask daily.
She can lead you to love
She can take you or leave you
She can ask for the truth
But she’ll never believe
And she’ll take what you give her as long as it’s free
Yeah, she steals like a thief
But she’s always a woman to me
I don’t ever want to be the one who is “in love” the most. It’s too out of control for me. It’s scary. It hurts.
Oh, she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She’s ahead of her time
Oh, and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind
When I heard that line as a young girl, it resonated with me. I didn’t have to be wrong. I could just change my mind. And I do. Sometimes to the detriment of those around me.
She will promise you more
Than the Garden of Eden
Then she’ll carelessly cut you
And laugh while you’re bleedin’
But she’ll bring out the best
And the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself
Cause she’s always a woman to me
These lines give me the most pause. They are the most unflattering. But yes. I have been guilty of this as well. The problem is… when I’m promising the Garden of Eden, I truly believe in what I’m promising. I do. But I just have a difficult time delivering. Even worse, sometimes I promise carelessly. Not really aware of how my words and actions are taken. As I’ve gotten older thankfully I’ve become more aware. But I still cut. A friend told me once that I wield a power I have to be careful with. So I try. But I do fail.
Oh, she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She’s ahead of her time
Oh, and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind

She is frequently kind
And she’s suddenly cruel
She can do as she pleases
She’s nobody’s fool
But she can’t be convicted
She’s earned her degree
And the most she will do
Is throw shadows at you
But she’s always a woman to me

I don’t know what it means to throw shadows. That line has puzzled me for a long time. If anyone has any ideas to its meaning I would love to be enlightened.

I believe there are parts of this song that speak to all women. Because at our core… no matter what else we may also be… we are women. And as my friend said, there is power in that. I hope to use it wisely. And to be forgiven when I don’t.

Benedict Cumberbatch Is My Soulmate (some fun on this cold Monday)

At least that what’s the quiz on Buzzfeed told me.

I suppose I do see the draw. The slightly arrogant British thing he has going on. And those lips… I’m sure he’s a good kisser. And he makes a tailored suit look like it was made to look. Simply perfect.

benedict 1

But when it comes to foreign actors, there are two others I much more drawn to, although they are quite different from each other.

The first is somewhat expected. Chris Hemsworth anyone? And not just because he looks like the demigod he plays in the Marvel comics films. But the accent, the eyes, the shoulders. And on top of all that… look how he dotes on his expecting wife. Ladies, just soak in the moment and enjoy.

Chris-Hemsworth-7 chris-hemsworth-L-9


What other non-American actor to I find myself conjuring on occasion? Eddie Redmayne. There is something so innocently boyish about him that makes me feel much older than him although we are the same age. That and his wide mouth were what made me sit up and take notice the first time I saw him. But it took more than that to draw me in. It may only be in my imagination, but in photographs and in film, there is a depth behind his eyes that speaks of an old soul. One that has been ’round many times and may (as I often feel mine is beginning to do) finally be remembering what it learned in the previous lives it was graced with. Or I could just be a sucker for freckles.

eddie 1 eddie-redmayne-5-things-facts-including-girlfriend-hannah-bagshawe-cover Eddie-Redmayne-demolitionvenom-34337917-500-667


See what buzzfeed has to say about your non-American actor type here:

How to Survive When Crazies Takeover (Hint: Don’t Be the Black Guy in Season One)

I feel as if I’ve been fighting a Crazipocalypse for the past couple of weeks. Something is in the air. People who I believe would normally behave in reasonable manner have been behaving off-kilter. It’s like I’m in an on-going episode of Candid Camera but no one ever points to the bushes and says, “Look! We’ve been filming you this whole time! It’s all a prank!”
The Crazies!!!! They are coming for me!!!!!

The Crazies!!!! They are coming for me!!!!!

Thankfully I have good, humorous friends who help me realize that the pinpoint of light at the end of the tunnel isn’t actually a train. Before the Crazipocalype peaked I was describing the impending sense of doom I had weighing on me to one such friend. He’s got much more experience in this area and offered some sound advice I’m going to pass on to the rest of you in case I’m not the only one in a battle against the Crazies. (And, judging by some of y’all’s blog posts, I’m not.)

 Rory:  How are you today?
 me:  I’m a little frazzled. But hanging in there
 Rory:  Frazzled?
 me:  are you not familiar with the word?
 Rory:  I am. More inquiring why
 me:  lots of irons in the fire. a girl abandoned her job. and it’s just a nutty feeling in the air.
 Rory:  Oh dear
 me:  like all the crazies are gonna come out. think zombie takeover. But instead of zombies… the crazies.
 Rory:  Get home, and lock the doors! Invest heavily in canned foods and shotguns
 me:  yes sir
 Rory:  I’m on season 4 of walking dead. I’m full of useful tips for just such occasions
1. Making friends with a redneck who can operate a crossbow is a good idea
 me:  What else?? I need to know these things!!!!
 Rory:  2. Don’t be the black guy in season one. It doesn’t work out for you.
The black guy in Season 1.

The black guy in Season 1.

 me:  Ok… Noted. I can do that. next?
 Rory:  3. Never, EVER, split up! Scooby and the gang do this all the time, but that is a silly silly cartoon. You will probably get eaten
 me:  And what if I’m alone already? Does that mean I should just throw in the towel?
 Rory:  Nope. Keep running. Never give up babe. Your pretty and likable, so you’ll probably be around until season 6 at least. Hell, you may get your own spin-off if you play your cards right
 me:  You know I’m gonna work up a humor post from this chat, right?
 Rory:  Please do 
 me:  What do you want your name to be?
 Rory:  Hmmm… I’m feeling on the spot… Rory. Can I be Rory?
 me:  Mmmm. I like it.
 Rory:  Oh, another point. Don’t get pregnant. Yes, we want to repopulate the species after the zombie apocalypse, but you’ll die in child birth, probably during sweeps week.

So there you have it my friends. With Rory’s sound advice we can all hope to live through the Crazipocalype and perhaps even have a spin-off all our own.

Running, Bourbon and a Sexy Pic

After I shared just how dark and gloomy I’ve been feeling the other day, this wonderful community chimed in with love, support and a flurry of try-this-to-feel-better suggestions. And I tried some of them last night. Now perhaps these shouldn’t have been done all at once, but though I’m not completely out of the storm, there is a sliver or two of light cracking through so I might have to rinse and repeat tonight.

First, I ran. And I ran hard. I beat by personal average mile time by a full 30 seconds. The thin, long-sleeved t-shirt that belonged to a man who has long sense forgotten it clung to my sweaty frame. The fog I’d been running through for thirty minutes only added to the dampness on my skin.

Second, I drank. Once home I immediately launched into preparing dinner for Nathan and I, but did so with a glass of Makers Mark in my hand. Neat. No water. No ice. I told a friend and he asked if the burn felt good. “What burn?” I responded. There was none. It was like syrup. Without the sickly sweetness. I felt myself begin to mellow. There were still some biting words aimed at Nathan that he didn’t deserve, but not as bad as the day before. And certainly not as terrible as they could have been. I drank some more.

Third, I took selfies of my cleavage. And I’m not feeling so gloomy that I’m too selfish to share…  Continue reading

I Need an Escape

I know I’m not the first person to want to flee from reality for a while. It’s a feeling I would assume everyone has experienced. There is a lot in my life coming to head at the moment. Work stress and the added pressure from my upcoming decision on what to do with Jack has made my chest feel tight and tiny furrows to appear between my brows.

So I’m running away for the weekend. Where, you ask? To the haven and welcoming arms of dear sweet Hy. Everything seems better in her rose-tinted world. I’m so thankful she has invited me down. I have a huge bottle of white wine chilling in my fridge to bring. And will raid my liqueur cabinet for some other goodies to take as well.

See you soon my sweet friend. It’s been far too long.

Thoughts While Walking

Flames of clouds lick the sky, white against the midnight blue. Swirling. Twisting. Violent vapors in the air.
I want to writhe like them, free, drifting. Fill myself with drink and move with abandon. And then to feel a hot smooth tongue trace the lines of my body. Plundering. Taking. Fingers possessing. Desire overtaking.

Creative Noodling the World!

I took a look at my all-time stats today for about the first time in forever and was excited with what I found. Except for a swath across north/central Africa and countries that aren’t on speaking terms with mine, most of the WordPress world map has some color on it. And that makes me smile. At least one person in 190 countries has landed in my little nook of the internet. I don’t know what brought them here, how they found their way, but for what began as a place to simply begin to process how and why my heart was broken, to have coverage almost the world over is more than a little thrilling. But it’s humbling too. What I have here… it’s just words. But they are my words. And for so many to actually read them brings me such joy. I wonder if there is a man in the mountains of Austria who let my steamy thoughts warm him on a cold night. Or could there be a woman on the shores of Peru finding comfort in my melancholy musings. I’ll never know. But I do know those of you who comment and encourage keep me going way more than you can ever realize. Thank you. Now if I can just get WordPress to do the map in shades of green…

Creative Noodling Worpress Map

Countries that haven’t yet had people stumble my way: The Western Sahara, Mauritania, Mali, Cote d’Ivoire, Guinea, Niger, Chad, Central African Republic, South Sudan, Gabon, Iran, Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, Somalia, North Korea, Cuba and Svalbard.