Rain

It stormed the other night. Massive gusts of wind, pelting relentless rain. I love it. I got up and opened the window. I wanted to hear it. I wanted to inhale it. I wanted to feel it. I fell into slumber and dreamed. I dreamed of standing outside, naked. I felt the rain landing on my skin, the drops winding their way down my body. I love the rain. There's something cleansing about it. It renews. It refreshes. The air smells amazing after a storm, like everything that wasn't washed away can begin anew.

I love this quote:

"Extraordinary circumstances do not make heroes or cowards, they simply reveal them to the eyes of men"

The more I experience in this world, the more I believe that quote to be a truth. Character - or the lack of it - is exposed in those circumstances that are outside our norm. Be it winning the lottery or dealing with tragedy, who we are becomes visible then.

Melancholy - or is it Cauliflower?

I'm feeling... squishy, wimpy, snugglin' on the couch all cozy today. I went for a run, usually that perks everything up... still got the cozies though.

I'm the queen of doing fine. Ask me how I am, you'll usually get a "fabulous"or a "fantastic" or on occasion a "pretty good" and rarely an "OK" - and usually, it's true. I am an optimist. I require that hopeful sense of the wonder of life. I don't do misery for long, I'm not built that way. But even I get droopy every now and then.

I've been told my energy is powerful, that those around me are strongly affected by my state of mind. When I'm up, I lift those close to me, they get intoxicated. It's nice to be able to do that. When I'm not though, unfortunately, it affects them equally but in the opposite direction. I intimidate at the best of times, I terrify folks when I'm down. This seems to be consistent. Not always sure what to make of it.

I thought of this while I ran:

Seeds. Potential unrealized. They can sprout, cells full of life, reaching for the sky.... but neglected they wither and wilt, then fade into the soil. Dreams of what could have been and the scent of possibilities, but not a real taste. Important to recognize the seeds.

I think tea... some herbal, earthy concoction... something grounding, yes. A quilt, pajamas, and a movie... light, soothing, happy ending movie. And later, wine, singing, and guitar playing... yup, that's what today holds me thinks.

Oh, and maybe some chocolate! *laughing*

Yes, we've met.

Yes, we've met. I wish I could say otherwise, but I'm familiar. Too familiar. The taste of you sickens me as I remember every detail. Ominous darkness is what you bring. You permeate every element of life - from when you emerge as a possibility to when you are known. You consume every waking moment, and IF sleep can be found, you weave elaborate nightmares of the possibilities that await.

Yes we've met. You are subtle when approaching. Sneaky, cowardly, like all evil is. You have stealth and the element of surprise on your side. But once your presence is known, you're smug. You took her over, and I swear you were laughing while you did it.

Yes, we've met. You are indiscriminate - race, age, gender, creed - matter not to you. Parasites don't query their hosts - any will do, the only requirement is to sustain YOU, though the end result is your demise too. Not that it matters, always another around the corner. Fresh meat.

Yes, we've met. I saw you take up residence. I saw you meticulously wear her body down. I saw you tease her with small victories, then push her back down. I saw her fight you - God she's was amazing - her gracious, generous, faithful spirit. Now THAT you couldn't touch you bastard. I've known very little hate in my life, but I think it's the right word for what I feel for you this moment.

Yes, we've met. I watched as pain took over, I heard in her voice how unbearable you made it, but she'd never say. I saw in her eyes how she worried about US - whole conversations conveyed from her eyes to mine, her heart to mine - she knew I knew all the things she couldn't say - your power couldn't control that.

Yes, we've met. You were relentless. I watched her let go. I told her to. I said "no more pain, you don't need to hurt anymore" - I know she heard me. I sang the Irish lullaby she sang to me as a child, comfort to all of us. And when the last gasp came, I felt her energy, I did.

Yes, we've met. Asshole. And now you come again? Not enough you took my Mother, you need to invade her too? Fucker. Your medical storm is descending... the tornado of testing, waiting, the 'procedures', the waiting, the hoping, the deciding, the coping.

Yes. Cancer, we've met.

Fuck you.

Fuck you.

Fuck you.

Happy Green Day!

My Irish history is ever present in my life. Irish on one side, French on the other, no wonder I'm such a bitch! *laughing*

A few Irish tidbits...

May you be granted always
A sunbeam to warm you
A moonbeam to charm you
A sheltering Angel so nothing can harm you
Laughter to cheer you
Faithful friends near you
And whenever you pray, Heaven to hear you

As you slide down the banisters of life
may the splinters never point the wrong way.

May you never forget what is worth remembering,
Or remember what is best forgotten.

Here's to our wives and girlfriends
May they never meet!

May your troubles be as few and as far apart as my Grandmothers teeth


My nieces are coming to have lunch with me today. We'll hit the pub next door and raise a jar to my Mom and Dad, their Grandparents.

When my Mom passed, we all sang this, at the church, at the hall, and at my house afterward. We handed out the words to everyone so they could sing along... my very Irish Nana, then 90, said 'piss off, I don't need those' - she knew the words. Here's to you Mom & Dad...

The Night Pat Murphy Died (Great Big Sea version)

Oh the night that Paddy Murphy died, is a night I'll never forget
Some of the boys got loaded drunk, and they ain't got sober yet
As long as a bottle was passed around every man was feelin' gay
O'Leary came with the bagpipes, some music for to play

That's how they showed their respect for Paddy Murphy
[Chorus] That's how they showed their honour and their pride
They said it was a sin and shame and they winked at one another
And every drink in the place was full the night Pat Murphy died

As Mrs. Murphy sat in the corner pouring out her grief
Kelly and his gang came tearing down the street
They went into an empty room and a bottle of whiskey stole
They put the bottle with the corpse to keep that whiskey cold

[Chorus]

About two o'clock in the morning after empty'ing the jug
Doyle rolls up the ice box lid to see poor Paddy's mug
We stopped the clock so Mrs. Murphy couldn't tell the time
And at a quarter after two we argued it was nine

[Chorus]

They stopped the hearse on George Street outside Sundance Saloon
They all went in at half past eight and staggered out at noon
They went up to the graveyard, so holy and sublime
Found out when they got there, they'd left the corpse behind!

[Chorus]

Oh the night that Paddy Murphy died, is a night I'll never forget
Some of the boys got loaded drunk and they ain't been sober yet
As long as a bottle was passed around every man was feelin' gay
O'Leary came with the bagpipes, some music for to play

I got into a conversation the other day about the arrangements of my marriage. The question I got - the one I often get when I choose to share this part of my life - is "why get married at all if you're going to fuck other people?" ... as if that alone defines the merit of a relationship, as if sex is the only thing a marriage has to offer - it baffles me. Don't get me wrong, I totally understand asking questions - it's unusual - so people are curious how we got here, why we choose it, how it works, what the pitfalls are.

Our relationship sometimes seems to strike fear into people. It's like if they find a way to be OK with it, all the romanticized, picture-perfect notions of 'love' they hang on to so tightly will disappear along with their hope for true connection and belonging. It's as though in their heads or hearts, true love for a life partner and desire for sexual exploration with another cannot coexist, like one negates the possibility of the other. Not surprisingly, men seem to have an easier time with it than women. Often though, they like the idea from a one-sided perspective *laughing*

Even before our relationship evolved into what it now is (yes, it evolved, we didn't just way up one day and say "hey, let's fuck other people!") I didn't understand the need to believe that one person can (and should) fill you up, be your everything. It just doesn't make sense to me that 'real love' must be void of longing for anything but that one person or what he can provide.

My husband is my life partner, I don't want to join in that way with anyone else. We share life - all that life is. We share the responsibilities and the rewards. the pain and the joy, the mundane day-to-day and the moments of exceptional. We share our babies, and together plot the course of our family. We are intensely intimate - physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Our thoughts and fears and desires are exposed to the other, we have a profound respect for each other as individuals. That I share levels of intimacy with others on occasion (or he does) does not in any way diminish all of the above or the love we feel for each other. Intimacy, by the way, can be close friendships of a non-sexual nature, as well as a tryst, and all the in betweens. So if you carry forward that intimacy with another is a threat, then wouldn't close friendships also be off limits?

It's not that I feel the need to justify our choice, I don't. I do have interest in why the concept rubs people so harshly the wrong way. What is so threatening about it? Some of it is obvious, some of it perplexes me. The moral issue will scoop up a big 'ol batch of folk who simply can't stomach it. The naive will still hold to the romance of that magic 'one' being all you'll ever need or want.

I also don't propose that all couples should choose the same road, not at all. I'm not saying 'our way' is better either, it just works for us. My concept of a 'successful' relationship is defined by how well it meets the needs of the parties involved, period. Not if it works for someone else, only if it works for those IN the relationship. We have guidelines, rules - all relationships do, whether they are cognitively chosen and spoken out loud or just evolved, implied, assumed - and we trust the intention of the other... yup, trust and respect.

I get a lot of "there must be something missing" blah blah blah, and I think that's bunk. We give pieces of ourselves to others all the time, it's part of the human condition, we interact, we share, we give, we take. Here's the thing.... no one relationship - be it with a friend, a family member, a lover or a spouse - meets every need one human being will have in a lifetime. Together the people you choose for your inner circle all contribute, all provide some fabulous addition to your world. Loving one friend doesn't diminish another. This is no different.

Love my daily fix...

They always behave differently in groups. like packs of wolves hunting prey - all that elevated testosterone in the synergy of them together. Alone he would look, look away, smile quietly perhaps. In the safety of his gang, he eyes me top to bottom, and back up... grinning. He's assessing my fuckability, the slut quotient, without discretion or shame or a care to hide it from anyone.

You know his decision by if he nudges the one next to him, and him the one beside again, until the entire table has you in sight, evil little grins, flirty eyes. When I smile coyly back, when I don't look away, you can see their eyes fire up- it's remarkably predictable.

It's at that point the personalities become visible. Some of them chuckle and comment to each other quietly. A few continue to watch me. I heard one do this moany-growl thing *laughing* You can see the Alpha type, the aggression visible in his eye as he stares me down, demonstrating his power, his virility through his eyes, his body upright, strong. He watches to see if there is discomfort, if I look away, for any sign of timidness, submission.

I can't say I'm unaffected, can't say my mind doesn't race in fantasy as I leave the little shop feeling their eyes burning into my ass. Damn! I'm a sucker for shoulders and probing eyes *laughing* and I do love my coffee in the mornings.