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Name: Justine
Location: Annapolis, Maryland, United States

Justine, is a little bit more than you'd expect. This is where you are supposed to put your "elevator speech". What you'd say if you were in the elevator with somebody you wanted to connect with. I don't have an "elevator speech". If I ran smack-dab into one of my "heroes" I'd just have to smile and be polite and keep my yipper shut and that's probably for the best anyway!

Monday, January 30, 2006
Dirty Little Secret
I'll keep you my dirty little secret.........

Dirty Little Secret"

Let me know that I've done wrong
When I've known this all along
I go around a time or two
Just to waste my time with you

Tell me all that you've thrown away
Find out games you don't wanna play
You are the only one that needs to know

I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
My dirty little secret

Who has to know
When we live such fragile lives
It's the best way we survive
I go around a time or two
Just to waste my time with you

Tell me all that you've thrown away
Find out games you don't wanna play
You are the only one that needs to know

I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
My dirty little secret

Who has to know
The way she feels inside (inside)
Those thoughts I can't deny (deny)
These sleeping dogs won't lie (won't lie)
And all I've tried to hide
It’s eating me apart
Trace this line back

I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret)

I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
My dirty little secret
Dirty little secret
Dirty little secret

Who has to know
Who has to know


*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&

Been down with the virus for 4 days. The phone keeps ringing off the hook with complaints about the "adversary".

I got ten whole minutes of peace before the turmoil started again. Last Friday an efficiency apartment came open at Sunrise. So ready or not, it's off we go. If I have to use a tranquilizer dart....she's got to go.

Each time I feel guilty..the phone rings again.

Sick or not...today I crawled out the door and dropped off the deposit. We have 14 days to move in before we get charged. Oh...and in the meantime I have to get her a TB test....or and we have to re-order meds so they come packaged for the med dispenser at Sunrise.

Oh and by the way..how dare I? Somebody asked me if she didn't want to go then why was I arranging it? Wellllllll let's see if your beloved pet dog doesn't want to stay in the yard but wants to play on 95 during rush hour.....do you let it? Or perhaps if diabetic Uncle Fred comes over and asks to eat a 5 lb bag of sugar...do you hand it over?

I'm doing it because I'm the most capable member of the family still up and going.

And right now...I feel like I'm going right straight out of my mind. I missed my clay class and lost the 100 bucks. I'm so sick I can't sit up. And somehow in the next 14 days I have to explain to my boss why I need more time off. Then I have to get myself in good enough shape to withstand a plane trip. Then I have to drag, wheedle, and cajole little Ms. Troublemaker back up here and through a TB test.

Oh and by the way....let's see ....I have to figure out how we're going to pay for all this.

Has anybody looked at the Medicare Prescription program info? Who came up with this shit? The tax code people?

Don't even get me started on the long term care insurance people.

I've put this in the hands of God.... Right now I can't figure anything out.

I won a copy of "Deuce Bigalow European Gigolo" and it's in the player in the little tv in the bedroom. I keep falling asleep with it on. It may be a silly and slightly sick movie...put it's pretty tough to keep you mind on doom and disaster with Norm McDonald ranting and raving about his "he-gina".

Let's just keep all this our dirty little secret?

PPS - Cuz where are you? Saw you on the messenger but you didn't answer. Suspected someone else might have been using your ID. Did you get all Highbrow? You know it's never too early to start looking for that summer job and that crash pad under the boards.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Things get damaged......
Tonight we do the ghost dance. We chant and dance. We touch the present and the past. We touch the world within and the world without.

I know what I want to do. I know what the next steps on the road are. I know what I want.

I'm tired. I don't want to be coached. I don't want to be talked at. I want to get on the camel and take the ride through to the next stop on the caravan.

I want to submerge and leave all the squalking behind.

There isn't anything wrong with me. Not a damn or undamned thing.

Mr. Cheesy smile can take his homeopic toad fart extract and stick it up his arse along with his little "Feeling Good Handbook". Like some half witted man out to make a buck has a clue.

(Ha ha....now I sound like mom.)

Following coach's suggestions, I went to the bookstore for the little guide. As soon as the bookseller put it in the palm of my hand and I saw the author's twerpy visage on the cover.......the word "Douche Bag" sprang to my lips. I flipped through the reccomended chapters and the bile came up in the back of my throat like a geyser. "What a hose bag. What a crock of ya-ya new age shee shee shit." Kept spanning through my mind like a mantra.

I could hear the chorus singing up. I put the book down and bought "The Well of Lost Plots" instead.

All evening...I heard a voice in my head saying "There's not a damn thing wrong with you." Over and over again. I heard Barbara Sher's comment, "Self improvement hell. There's nothing wrong with you."

So now I'll saddle up and go on my own. I've declared February an "Counseling & Coaching free month". Of course that will help me get the bills paid to.

I just want to be let alone to get on with the work.

There's a back room to be reorganized this weekend. I want to shred the old papers for 2005. I've got some writing I want to do. All this fru fru ha ha has just got to quit for a while and let me be. Let me get some fresh air in my head and get on with things.

It's time to get out of the boat and walk around on the shore a while.

Thank you very much.

Today's song is still "Precious" by Depeche Mode. It seems a song from one part of myself to another. I've always been my own protector, my own guardian, why should things be any different now?

Things get damaged
Things get broken
I thought we'd manage
But words left unspoken
Left us so brittle ....


Angels with silver wings
Shouldn't know suffering.......

Things get damaged
Things get broken......

Playing the Angel?
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Open love letter to the entourage.......
I broke the prayer lamp. God still hears my prayers anyway under the yellow optical din of an incandescent bulb. Ordinary, average, night, alone....just the spot where miracles appear.

Nobody looks for them here so nobody sees them here.....but I do......and I don't think I catch even 1/100th of what occurs.

Tonight is the open love letter to the entourage. All the pieces and parts of personality that keep us powering forward.

It's an assignment from my coach. But it's a good idea anyway.

I actually had someone look at me today and tell me that I was strong, very strong to have weathered the past three months in good shape. I was told to appreciate myself and congratulate myself on success.

But, sickly sweet, in the back of my mind is the thought....that the hardest parts are yet to come.

And I am reminded that I am constantly alone.

Ah, tonight I am truly tired.

Like Depeche Mode says....."Things get damaged, things get broken......"


Dearest one's I am thanking you for all that you are and all that you make me. Forgive me if I stumble over the words. Pardon me if I don't mention all the glory and majesty that you are....and that I don't see.

Nick and "IT" , I didn't understand where you came from or what you did. Now I know you were the one's who were strong enough to protect us. I watched you come forward and take charge, put up the boundaries, hold fast, and keep us all safe through the storm.

Thank you.

Vian, I didn't understand what you did but now I know you held the hope. You held the belief that the storm would end and life would resume. This time out I watched you get dinged and battered and change. Now you see that we're never going back, quite so far as you might have hoped....but we can go back to life as it was three months ago and we can proceed from there.

Thank you.

Lemurs, I hear you chattering away in the background. I apologize for keeping the fun so far away the past few weeks. I tried. Thank you for understanding when I fell short.

Justine, ah the model girl. The holder of the sure and certain hope that there is a whole, complete, balanced, girl in here she's on her way to the surface.

Gonzo, thanks for that twisted viewpoint. It kept me peering over the horizon and seeing things slightly askew at all times. It also let me burn the sacred cows and torch the prison. It kept me seeing the chinks in the prison walls long enough to find a way to torch them. Thanks.

Marilyn, I know you. I'm trying to acept all the parts into the whole. Thanks for your patience. And for your fun!

Camel......steadfast, steady, a fount of energy. A connection to faith, hope, trust, and the divine. Thanks for carrying me and inspiring me.

Food Wolf...thanks for suffering through and yet always being on patrol. Thanks for keeping the faith, maintaining the watch, and fighting for me and my life.

Time Wolf....welcome to the fold. Thanks for making your presence known and joining the work with the rest of the group.

All of those who I have not mentioned. Thanks. You know how tired we are.


Thanks to Cuzin Tuesday....who probably doesn't understand this post at all. Trust me....it's a good thing. I haven't cracked....any more than usual....yet.
Monday, January 16, 2006
Fast Fashion Returns

Playing the Angel?


The soundtrack to tonight's draft of dispair is "Playing the Angel" by Depeche Mode. Their hypnotic honesty floats and hypnotizes again. Thank God they are still writing and working and living the same pain we all see. Thank God they can find the words that still elude me.

Precious
By Depeche Mode

Precious and fragile things
Need special handling
My God what have we done to you
We always tried to share
The tenderest of care
Now look what we have put you through

Things get damaged
Things get broken
I thought we'd manage
But words left unspoken
Left us so brittle
There was so little left to give

Angels with silver wings
Shouldn't know suffering
I wish I could take the pain for you
If God has a master plan
That only He understands
I hope it's your eyes He's seeing through

Things get damaged
Things get broken
I thought we'd manage
But words left unspoken
Left us so brittle
There was so little left to give

I pray you learn to trust
Have faith in both of us
And keep room in your hearts for two

Things get damaged
Things get broken
I thought we'd manage
But words left unspoken
Left us so brittle
There was so little left to give


Cuz, I know you're out there tonight. It makes the night brighter. Thanks.

While I was at the adversarys house I saw pictures from the old days. It's a shame that girl had to die, I think I would have liked her. I might have even been able to protect her a bit. But isn't that the way it goes?



Fast Fashion


Sunday, January 15, 2006
Back
Returned from taking the adversary back to Florida.

First thing in the door, I phoned the Wachovia lawyer and let her know that we did have a grievance and if she didn't settle it...the Feds would.

House had about 5000$ worth of damage.

Had to fight the air conditioning guys who came out and dummied up a work order on me. I hate those fuc****. I should have taken a shot gun.

Exhausted. Beyond belief.

There are no words for the grief I feel.

Hope and optimism seem faded and torn beyond repair.

Read Hunter Thompson on the plane. An early novel, before he went "Gonzo". Striking, wonderful prose. Made me dream I could write like that.

Goodnight. I go to hibernate now.


Long ago and far away.


Thursday, January 05, 2006
Things are never as they seem....Part 2

Did you guess what was amiss with the princess?

She is not who you think.Neither is he!

Princess. Actor.
Both beautiful. Both the same person.

Billion Dollar Babies
"Billion Dollar Babies", the great classic by Alice Cooper is streaming off the XM radio.

I remember being 10 and loving that song. I was the right age to be dancing with dolls in the attic.

Now the song seems to make absolute sense. I'm in the mood to be in the attic with my old Mrs. Beasley doll rocking back and forth and murmuring ancient nursery rhymes.

Not unlike old Alice...I go out everyday in my freakish disguise. A misfit amongst misfits. Only when I come home, my freak costume doesn't come off. I get to live in the nightmare twenty four hours a day.

Goodie for me.

Dark place....up here in this attic. I started out in the attic as a kid...it was the refuge in the house and it had an ocean view. Now I'm in the attic because it's the cheapest apartment.

Oh what a fu*ked up mess my life has become. Parents beware....your little fullsome frolics destroy your children as well as yourselves.

Only 6 more days until I take off for the tropics. A week off from work and not looking forward to it anyway. It will be a week away from one drudge and in the middle of another. Let's see there's the insurance company, the painters, the banks, the airlines, the taxi company, the rental car company, and of course the joy of snatching the tags off of my mother's car. Ah....we'll see if I still have the stones when that job rolls around.

I'm already dreaming of being back. Being in a quiet house. I will miss the dog.

I already miss mom...she's been gone for a while now.

If we knew as children what grief awaits us....we'd all run out in front of the ice cream truck and die with joyous abandon.


She is not who you think.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Things are never as they seem

She is not who you think.


First blog of the new year.

Been thinking of many clever things to rave on about over the last few days. Cold reality is that I haven't written a word.

Spent new years eve asleep. Safest refuge from the domestic bliss.

Today is January 2. 13 more days until I come back to a quiet house. 10 days before I take off for a refreshing jaunt around the tropics fighting traffic, insurance companies, and the inevitable grind of age and disintegration.

Looking forward to going back to work just to escape the tension. Think I will schedule a good chunk of time off after I get back. Just to see if I can become myself again.

Que the "Sly and the Family Stone" song..... "I want to thank you for lettin' me be myself again."

Have you figured out what's amiss with our Chinese Empress above? It took Jeremy Iron's character in the movie several years. Amazing what we will be blind to in order to see what we want.

May the new year bring us all the new eyes we truly need.