Bad Dreams

Mickey: You drank a beer in your sleep.
Heidi: Oh, what did you think about that?
Mickey: I wasn't all that surprised. It actually explains a lot.

Breakthrough

Watch "Adaptation (2002) - Donald Kauman talking about his love (English Version)" on YouTube

I'm writing a novel, friends. I'm writing a novel about people and places I loved and lost. The love is mine no matter the outcome. The space existed in time and is not made any less by death or forgetfulness. It's there, it's mine. Closure happens and grieving is finished not when it stops being sad, but when it is possible to fondly remember without bitterness.

Cole says

I can't play the finger with my right piano thumb

Great Quotes

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
-Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

Robin Says

"You're all say somethingy tonight"

The Hammond Song

If you go down to hammond
You’ll never come back
In my opinion you’re
On the wrong track
We’ll always love you but
That’s not the point

If you go with that fella
Forget about us
As far as I’m concerned
That would be just
Throwing yourself away
Not even trying
Come on you’re lying to me

Well I went down to hammond
I did as I pleased
I ain’t the only one
Who’s got this disease

Why don’t you face the fact
You old upstart
We fall apart

You’d be okay if you’d
Just stay in school
Don’t be a fool

Do your eyes have an answer
To this song of mine
They say we meet again
On down the line
Where is on down the line
How far away?
Tell me I’m okay

If you go down to hammond
You’ll never come back

A Month Of Truths

I'm tired of other people telling my story. I don't want to keep quiet. I don't care about making waves. I've got nothing to lose. #amonthoftruths on twitter.

I.M. Hilarious: Nothing To Get Hung About

Heidi: Apathy is coming to rescue me. I dunno why I give a fuck about anything at all

CF: What a wonderful lyric!

Heidi: Yeah?

CF: Sure

Heidi: I could try to write a song about apathy...But what would be the point?

CF: Call it Strawberry Fields Whatever

Yeah? So?

Heidi: Do you know anything about anything?

Robin: I know something about your mom.

Summertime!

My summertime villanelle!

Dream Dad

My poem about the perfect father featured on Yahoo!

Depression Article

I finished it. It's published.

"When I was ten years old, my grandmother committed suicide via a closed garage and a Buick. The garage was attached to the house. Though the doors were closed, my grandfather, sleeping upstairs, was reached by the toxic fumes. They both slipped away quietly in the night..."

You can read it on yahoo! here.

Things I Need To Tattoo On My Wrist

Don't agree to write a piece on depression

I.M. Hilarious: Like WoW

me: Find me on words
What is your thing

Kate: Vladra
its my DK in Wow's name lawl

me: You are not speaking inglis

Kate: its the name of my death knight on world of warcraft

me: Lol
I know
Mickey translated

Kate: lol
I got a new toon now too, Chris and I are going to level Goblins together
mine's name is Oubangui
his toon's name is turtlehead
I win points for creativity
not so sure about him...
lol

me: I got a new stuffed animal that I named Flffdfr. If I leveled him I think he would be less cuddly.

Kate: yeah level isn't so much cuddling

me: I'm going to get a fainting space goat

Hey Everyone, Come See How Nerdy I Am

I just wrote an alarmingly dorky piece on Yahoo! about video game addiction. It's not alarming in that it's any surprise that I am that dorky, it's just a rarity that I admitted it willingly and unabashedly.

Archive Of Subtitles

I Solemnly Swear I Am Up To No Good

3/4/2010-5/2/2012

The Sadder But Wiser Girl

12/30/09-3/4/2010

Making Art, Music, & Poetry Whilst Begrudgingly Doing the Laundry

11/17/09-12/29/09

Disagreeable Little Pill

circa March-November 2009

What's All This? Spinkiness At It's Best

circa winter 2009

Where Are The Ta Tas?

This One Is Wet

I Guess This Is A Mommy Blog, But I Promise I'm Funny, And So Is My Family. But Not As Funny As Me

Wishful Thinking

I.M. Hilarious: Bad Body Image Day (Part II)

Me: I have the mean reds. I feel worthless and ugly and fat.

SB: You are loved.

Me: Thank you. Are you mad at me?

SB: No why?

Me: idk

SB: Did I do something to make you think so? Is it because my breath smells right now?

Me: No. it totally never smells even though you are in constant fear that it does

SB: No I can taste it right now. It's coffee and Garlic.
Gum is needed.
OMG! I want garlic flavored coffee.  That would be delicious.

Me: Hmmmmmm

SB: So what's wrong?

Me: I'm not an underwear model or porn star
And I think it's probably time for plastic surgery

SB: No.  It's cheaper and easier to throw up.
Just kidding.

Me: Nothing tastes as good as skinny :-)

I.M. Hilarious: Bad Body Image Day (Part I)

Me: I'm not doing well. Are you feeling any better?

CF: Sorry to hear it! Whats wrong?

Me: I'm not an underwear model or porn star. And I think it's probably time for plastic surgery

CF: Oh no... Are you no longer the most beautiful girl in the neighborhood? Boys seem to like you.

Me: Lol. Probably i'm still that. I do really well with the immigrant set.

CF: Perhaps a move to costa rica is in order.

Dexter Says

"Mommy, this will impair my ability to use machines."

Dexter Says

"I can feel the force in my...pants."

SPASM

Here it comes. The race to unconsciousness. It always makes for interesting writing. Tonight I feel the anger and disquiet bubbling up. They are threatening to make me not funny this evening.

I can feel my soul writhing around inside myself recently. Twisting and turning and nothing is comfortable. Usually this is a sign of breakthrough ahead. I hope so.

A Morning In Dublin

4/5/2012

It's 4:30 am in Dublin Ireland on a Thursday. It's 11:30 pm at home. I shouldn't be awake either place. I'm good at being awake when I shouldn't. I can't sleep. I have a headache. I have a headache a lot in Ireland. It's all the Guinness and Jameson. Even though I tread softly through the room, the man I love wakes as well. Both of us are restless. I've had beastly little nightmares and snippets of last nights drunken and troubling conversation. We fell asleep midway through and it keeps rattling around in my head. I leave him tomorrow to collect my dearly missed children for Easter while he jaunts around a few more days. I push it all out of my mind. I'm cold and lonely to the bone and my teeth are chattering. I draw a hot bath and play music that replenishes my strength and sense of self. I sink into the tub with a pencil that came with the room and my notebook. It's been years since I've written in pencil and I'd forgotten the beautiful rhythmic swishing noise it makes when the thoughts are coming quickly.

I run the bath so hot that I have to keep getting out. My skin looks sunburned where the water has touched me. It's a metaphor for my life. The way I do anything is the way I do everything. Longing for warmth, I overdid it, burning myself. Then I miss the cold! Back and forth I go, only finding balance after some time has passed and the water (the separate entity) has cooled, tempered itself in spite of me and what I thought I wanted.

During one break from the bath I get out and notice the sun is coming up. The window is far inset and it's hard to see, so I open the curtain and stand on the low window sill, wearing only a towel, and press against the cool glass. Below, I can see down into the hotel's restaurant. The table is set for breakfast in a couple hours. Directly across is another wing of the hotel. A brick wall of windows faces me. It makes me profoundly lonely that there is no one with my exact idea at this precise time. The windows are identically empty with their curtains drawn.

I get back into the water and burn until I can't stand it anymore. I hang one leg over the side hoping to cool myself like a lizard. Eventually it's too much and I go back to padding around the room. I open the leather tea box and choose "Irish Breakfast Tea". I've been in the country nearly a week. It's about time I try it. I heat the water and add milk because it seems right. There's hot chocolate also, and I decide to make that later as a treat for my very Irish boyfriend. He's quietly lying still and engrossed in his reading all this time. I try to lie still beside him, but I know it's futile because I'm restless and noisy with my teacup and saucer and little spoon. These items always delight me. The little clinks they make sound like tinkling bells to my soul.

I admire the way he can be so restful in his unrest, tucked neatly under the covers. His head is heavy on the pillow and his shiny dark hair, that is so fascinating to me, contrasting against the white sheets. His arm is draped over his forehead and he just lies there, still and heavy, nothing moving except his impossibly long eyelashes as he takes in the pages.

The cold and restlessness get to me and I go back to the bathtub. He's known me long enough now that he's accustomed to my fitfulness and isn't alarmed by my odd comings and going anymore, so long as I stay within earshot.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and for once I don't loathe it. My red hair is up in a messy bun and my makeup is still on from the night before. The rest of me, pale from the winter and curvy.

I stay in the bath until the water is too cold and I begin to hate it. I realize I've left my towel in the bedroom and I'm freezing again. Not that it matters. I never bother drying off completely anyway. I'm too cold to take time for that. I get under the covers to warm up. I know if five minutes time I'll have found my balance again.

It's Flash Fiction, The Quickest Read

Please check out my flash fiction piece on yahoo!

Rage

I'm so angry recently. All the resentment that I've bottled up over the years is surfacing. All the rage that I've protected everyone from in case it hurts their feelings or makes them uncomfortable or pushes their fragile psyche over the edge is coming out. It's not pretty. I feel infuriated and invincible.

Just In Time And Not A Moment Too Soon

Every year I slowly disappear during the winter. Bit by bit I descend into a private hell. Eventually I can't remember what it's like to feel alright.And then, at the moment I think I can't take it anymore, the crocuses come out and I know it's going to be ok.

To top it off I got to bartend on a beautiful evening with the windows open in Old Town.

Heidi Says

"So my choices for movies tonight are IMF, CIA, or Navy Seals, yeah?

Turn, Turn, Turn

Mickey: Ok, we take a left, we take a crazy turn...

Heidi: That's a hairpin turn.

Mickey: That's a stock market turn.

Growing Up

It's time for me to be awesome in the original sense of the word. No more being a doormat for narrow-minded toxic people. I'm stuck and I want to get a move on.
The trouble is that I don't exactly know where I want to be. I have some general ideas, but I really wish I could just movie montage it instead of doing the legwork. I'll do it though. Get ready.

Miles Says

"Why are there so many slang words for a girls private parts?!"

Miles Says

"You're welcome for my nice manners."

Moms In Da Hood: Self Defense

Robin: (to the Panera cashier) I think I have two cents.

Heidi: I'll give you my two cents. Look, I have a whole sock full of change. I could beat someone up.

Robin: Yeah. You could beat off a mugger.

Heidi: You could beat off a mugger. Then maybe he wouldn't mug you.

I'm Just Sitting Here Watching The Wheels Go Round And Round

It's been a weird month. I haven't slept for a solid eight or even seven hours in at least two weeks. The bags under my eyes could hold the groceries that I've neglected to buy.
I'm back together with Mickey. Internet, I haven't told you much about him, because I feared backlash and also because I felt that it made him uncomfortable. However, it's time.
Mickey is the love of my life. I adore the hell out of him. I always have. It's ridiculous. He is strong where I am weak. I am the yin to his yang. No one had ever tried so hard or fought so valiantly for me. When we are good there is nothing in the world that I've seen that compares to our magic. It's straight fairy tale.
We haven't always been good to or for each other. We have been a total idiot sketchy douche at times. However, taking a month apart nearly did us both in. The heart is funny. A world full of people, but no one would do. Because not one compares to Mickey.
Now we are on the mend, stronger and more committed than ever. While the shit we put each other through is painful, I know we'll be better and stronger for it 'cause we already are.
I love that punk ass.