more random via phone in bed

Fighting off a panic attack is like fighting of a rabid starving dog hiding in the bushes. You don't know when it will happen but you can hear the growls following around. You walk calmly and carefully not wanting to upset him. There are times though a ringing phone, loud music, and clanking dishes will push him over the edge. Before you know it he got you down on the ground and you are begging, pleading, and fighting for your life. Sometimes you can drug the pooch. Sedate him. But he's still there, lurking in the shadows.

I really want to put that rabid dog to sleep, permanently, but do not know how. Life is short and precious and I do not want to fight that beast evermore! I want peace, joy, livelyness, and love to fill my sweet happy days.

I want to have a conversation with someone and not have a panic attack at some point after we talk. I would like to be less sensitive. This beast has dictated my life for years now and its crippling my free spirit. Then again that could be the problem. I am not as free as I want to be. Being an only child I never felt free to do and go and be. I know I would not live in Kansas! Or anywhere near here.

I do fell fenced in most of the time. I need the outdoors. Fresh air. Dirt on my hands. Hair ruffled by the wind. The sun tanning my skin. Walking in the warmth and breeze of the night on a full moon. Bathing nude in the moon light. Making love with the lighting bugs flashing between moans. The glory. The rapture. The pure beauty of it all. Oh, how I long.

random....pointless...........

I lie here in bed with a deep desire to sleep but my eye burns and my throat is scratchy with an intense tickle. With these minor issues along with my constantly spinning thoughts I decided to spend some time to purge. Then I can rest easier.

Tonight someone mentioned in a thread that there was a little of so in so in all ladies, written by a woman. A man then said that was NOT true. Until I can read the book I can only speculate what they could be talking about.


I started thinking about women I know after reading that comment. I know a lot of differnt kinds. Everything from cold prudes to sexed up nymphomaniacs. Friends with a tantra teacher and friends with the opposite. What amazes me more than anything is you CANNOT judge a book by its cover. Some of the most sexed up women I know are simple regular looking average janes. On the same token a hot babe that dresses like a hooker could careless. Then you have every combination there on. I know the same goes for men. But the media would have you believe something else entirely.

I wonder how many people out there are missing out on great sex because they looked at the cover? How many people are expected to like it or want it based on this perception? The one thing that still boggles my mind more than anything else are those people grossed out from french kissing.

I could go on but I won't. I don't want to scare anybody and give away my views on sex, which I think we need more of...but that is another story for another time. I will now go to sleep before my cough drop wears off.

giving up grains

Some people might think I am doing a strange new diet fad. Some might contribute it to Lent, but then that means they do not know me well. Some will ponder about doing it too. I am not doing a fad diet. I am not doing this for Lent, although it was started around the same time. No, I am simply giving my body a rest, a fast if you will, from grains and legumes. Hindus do it once a month, a fasting from grains from sun set to sun up. I am going longer to let my body heal from the years of grain build up.

I recently heard about a group of people that eat a paleolithic diet, aka, The Caveman Diet. You do not eat grains, beans, legumes, and that includes peanuts and cashews. These people state that our bodies evolved to eat a hunter-gather diet. We are not to eat agricultural diets. Meaning eat foods that must be planted, cared for, harvested, and take time to cook and prepare for eating. This even means corn, that SHOULD. Be soaked in lime before ingesting.

The proponents for this diet swear they are healthier than ever. Lean, trim, and feeling great. The leader is an elderly man with the testosterone and sex drive of a 19 yr old with the body of an athletic 30 yr old. He is almost 80.

I read an article stating some people with wheat allergies or gluten sensitivities should abstain from eating oats until their body had healed. This got me thinking about going grain free for a while. I am still pondering how long I want to go. I agreed with myself to take it week by week. I am on day 4 going on day 5 and I feel like a junkie needing a fix. I whispered to my beer, "Not today." I caressed the popcorn container, opened and sniffed the grits, licked my lips thinking of gluten free toast.

This is proof I must forge on and continue my quest of grain free life style....for a little while longer. *forgive my spelling errors I am typing from a droid phone.  

Negativity and its impact

We all have those moments when we say something negative or think something negative. The goal here is not to make it your life. Negative thinking is poison. Most people agree what you think about and what you speak about you create in your world, but people have seemed to miss the connection between those two ideas.

We must forget that those negative words and phrase and bad attitudes are shaping your destiny. Every time  you groan, mumble, bitch, complain, every time your emotions are dancing like flames, licking your words as they leap from your mouth you are creating it for the future.

Why then do humans do this not only daily but with nearly every segment of their day?
Carrying on about sickness. Talk about criminals and what they do to people. Talk about accidents. Talk about hate, poverty, lack, and victimhood.

It is such a downer for myself to be around people that talk endlessly about negative issues. Never talking about what they love, cherish, desire, enjoy. They tell me what they fear, hate, don't want, and do it with so much energy and passion that my body begins to feel tense. I feel ill at ease. I am being sucked into their vortex of hell. I don't like that feeling. That is a hint to run. Find the solace of joyful beings.

Life is about what you make of it and you make it with every breath you speak out. With every passionate thought you think. Every time to repeat yourself about sickness, despair, and woes you create more. Take that passion people and place it where you have love, desire, dreams of betterment. Talk to people about things that make you smile. Talk about the life you want. Breathe in the love and exhale peace. Make your mind up to change. Make up your mind to be different than everyone else. Decide your life is and will be beautiful. Decide your children are safe and healthy. Decide you are empowered. Decide you are abundant. Rich with friends, love, money, and....(fill in the blank)

Next time you feel that feeling that you KNOW does not feel like peace, goodness, and love; STOP keep your mouth shut and think of something good. Try it. Take a deep breath if you have too. Stutter if you must. Blink your eyes if it's feeling difficult. But DO IT! Your life will change and you will in turn affect those around you to be more positive too.

That's interesting! (WTF does that mean?)

The word interesting is thrown about far too much. We use it to say we like it. We say it to mean we hate it. We use it as a way to keep from saying something rude or mean spirited, "What are you on fuckin' Crack? That's hideous!!" Is what we really mean, but we give the congenial smile and say very pleasantly, "Oh, that is interesting!" with a slight raised eyebrow.


This has got me thinking. I live with a man that throws the word  "interesting" around as if it was a racquetball in play. This concerns me. Does he really think I am interesting or I am a schmuck? Does my love for writing interest him? How about my love for Bollywood music, 1930's and 40's music, Bluegrass, and Reggae? What about my very liberal tendencies? My lack of religion? My ban on shaving my pits? My  save the world mentality? My art? My boisterous voice? My booming overall existence? 


Ah! It would be so much easier if people would use different words to mean different things. Not leaving me to wonder what they mean. 


Next time he catches me in one of my moods dancing around the house, singing words to a made up song in my head in a weird obnoxious voice I hope he can muster the courage to say what he really thinks, "Where in the hell did I find such a freakin' nut like yourself!?" instead of smiling and blinking hard and fast as he stutters and lingering on syllables, "you are SOOOooooo interesting!"

Sing About My Winter Blues

I shiver, quiver, and shake in bed every night. I snuggle up with Sam and have even went as far to share blankets with him. I wear copious amounts of clothing to bed. I whimper constantly. I shut my eyes after the thaw begins and sleep throught the night. I wake up around 8am to find the world bleak, colorless, and GRAY! We are now on month 3 of gray days. We had rain. Then fog, then snow, then for no reason the sun still was scarcely seen. Oh the misery! of day after day. I am losing my mind. I now sit and contemplate what would happen mixing Rescue Remedy in wine. I have made mind numbing herbal cocktails. I am falling into the winter depression felt by true northerners. Shampooing, clipping toe nails, putting on pants for visitors seem like challenges I have never experienced before. I get through my days by watching 1950's sci-fi, checking facebook, cleaning turd pieces off toilets, and daydreaming about Summer! Dancing naked around a fire, going swimming the way Goddess intended, and drinking enough mojitos next to the sprinkler to pickle my organs. Ahhhhh yes, summer, I can feel your warm southerly breeze tickleing my ear....oh wait that is Sam on the verge of snoring.

Time to call it a night and think about Summer and the fun.....again.