Mama Always Said...

My mom used to tell me, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."
Of course, that advice was continuously countered by my father's opposing, (and far louder) view:
"If you don't have anything nice to say, say it anyways. If they don't like it, that's just too fucking bad."

I will admit to falling into the latter category of speaking more often than not.

But I digress...
It's not that I don't have anything nice to say, (we already established that that is unfortunately not an issue) the thing is, for once, I just really don't seem to have a damn thing to say. Who knew that was even possible?

I hope it goes away soon...It's a terribly uncomfortable feeling.

My Ghosts

Motionless without direction

listening for the quiet inflection

that tells me where to go

that shows me he knows...

Somehow I became alone 

drifting in the unknown

searching for the way home 

on my own.

Somehow untouchable

unreasonably unreachable

sifting through the sands of time

trapped somewhere in my own mind.

A thought slips through

a dream drifts by

as snow floats down through the cloudy sky.

My ghosts they float through my dreams

quiet and smiling

speaking of places that I have never been

and things that I have never seen.

I sleep with the doors open

always hoping

that when one shines light in the corners

nothing remains hidden

to rise out of the dark unbidden.

I long ago cleaned out my closets

of the skeletons so carefully gathered there

I made room for my ghosts

they see more than most.

When we gather

we offer them a plate

we set them a place

and these days,

sweet mother above and below,

they take up so much space.

I learned long ago

that maybe we don't want to know

what the cards hold

and it is better

just to let the future unfold.

 

People think they want to know what lies ahead

but they will not thank you

for historically we have shunned

those who see

that which we do not understand.

And so I talk to my ghosts

some new

some old

some beloved

and some better left alone.

So often we search

for that which is already within.

And as we travel through this life

we tend forget

that there is grace in death

and beauty in pain.

We forget

to dance in the rain

we refuse to acknowledge our ghosts

and say that yes,

they are our very own

each one

just another soul

looking for the way home.

For You

Blogger absolutely refused to format this how I wanted it, and I have to say--that really pissed me off...

For you
I would be
anything, everything, nothing.
For you
I would laugh and cry,
love, live,
and die.

Please
lead me and I will follow

Dominate me and I will submit

Break me and I will rise like a phoenix from the ashes

control me and I will obey.

Take me and I am yours 

always 

in all ways.

Please
do not leave me floating in this motionless ocean

I cannot swim, I cannot fly, and time is slipping quietly by.

Strip away all that I am

so that I may be all that I have become

Bring me to tears and wipe away my fears.

I have somehow lost my way
so it is to you that I pray
take me back to shore
lead me back to our path,
or tell me where to go
so that I may return home
I cannot seem to find the way on my own.

My compass
it seems broken
torn part by this endless ocean.
tell me which direction to wander
as I wonder
where I am meant to be
and how I am to get there.

Point me towards home
that I may no longer feel alone.
Bind me that I may no longer stray too far.

For you I will float in this motionless ocean

until you lead me to shore.

For you
I would give anything.
For you
I could take everything.

Without you
I am adrift in the seas of time

drowning in my own mind.

Lead me to solid ground.

Please.

And I shall rest before you 

on my knees

forever where I am meant to be

forever what I am meant to be.

Forever
for you.

More Vanilla Ramblings

I turned down the job.
When Alpha said, "If it's stressing you out that much, then maybe it's not worth it" I felt like a ton of bricks had been taken off my shoulders, and the world was a much better place than it had been only moments before.
Of course, the job refusal was accompanied by a somewhat resounding sense of guilt--the lady needs help, and we do need more income. But, it wasn't enough to make a real difference, and I'll do my best to see if I can help her find someone else.

The truth is, I absolutely must find something to do that isn't so physically demanding, and I'm terribly unqualified for a desk job.

So I'm applying myself in other ways for now:

I finished the blanket for Thing2's second baby--it grew way out of proportion. But the good news is, if it survives his childhood, he can put it on his bed when he's twenty.
 Okay, well, technically...I haven't tied off all the yarn ends, but I figure I have a few months to get there (issues finishing projects anyone?).

Looking for a good coconut cake recipe, (hmm, first time I typed that, I got "cocnut", I'm thinking he wouldn't appreciate the humor when related to something you beat up and bake).
I want to try it with lime curd filling, and my birthday is the one I experiment on, so I'm going to try something new.
If anyone has any good recipes for coconut cake, please send them my way!

Preparing myself to get up at the crack of dawn for jury duty selection tomorrow.
The thought of possibly having to sit in a room and come to an agreement about something important with a group of strangers...It's quite unpleasant.
That is not at all what I had in mind when I said I needed something less physically demanding to do--one day I'll learn the ever important correct phrasing for requests to the universe.

Deleting spam comments.
Seriously, it's like someone opened the damn floodgates and the little buggers have just been swarming!
I don't need voodoo to get my girlfriend back, I don't need penis enlargement gimmicks, I don't need nature's cure for thrush, and I certainly have no interest in watching transvestite porn.
I'm one complimentary "Good info on this site, visit my page at_____" from turning the spam filters back on, but I'm resisting the urge because they're such a pain in the ass.

I'm fairly sure that I will get back to our regularly scheduled programming soon, but in the meantime...

Something to look forward to!

Fluctuation Spaces and Other Critters

 I would like to thank Little Monkey for kindly returning my lost and tattered sense of humor--I'm keeping it chained nearby and well plied with caffeine.

Uh huh--really, really was!

 Sometimes I get a bit lost. It usually happens when his standing still coincides with other events that stress me out. So I run around in circles until something gives.

This running around in circles bit tends to bring the brat out in full force.

Now, sassing is a part of our lives--don't say I told, but he's admitted that he would probably get a bit bored  if I had no sass.
But sassing always ends with sweet compliance. It's a little nudge of fun that earns me a swat, a grab, a threat that is as delicious as it is meant to be, a laugh, or all three.

Bratting is quite a bit different. Truthfully, neither of us likes the brat, and if I could throw her out in the snow and slam the door once and for all, I would.

Sometimes the brat is screaming for more control, sometimes she genuinely wants to do whatever the hell she wants, whenever the hell she wants to.
It's always one extreme or the other, (should that be "Another?").

It becomes like the "Great reign of dissatisfaction".

Sometimes I know exactly what I need--usually it's a tightening up of our dynamic--more expression of it.

He comes to an understanding and helps me out.

And sometimes?
Well, hell if I know. Though I would hazard a guess that my hormones are out to sabotage me more often than I would like.

There is a...Fluctuation place.
He lets me have that space to fluctuate when my hormones are out to get me, when things change, when I'm really stressed.
I need it badly, and I am deeply grateful for it.
But getting back out of that fluctuation space can be tricky. And too much fluctuation is when the brat is likely to enter in all her glory. batty little bitch that she is...

Occasionally, that way back is to send the brat packing in tears, and lock the house up tight so that she can't sneak back in (Okay, so lock me up tight is always part of the solution, eventually).

If someone ever gives out that "Submissive of the Year" award, I think that they should be shunned (obviously the results are the same for me either way lol).

Nothing Interesting Here

Seriously, everything worth reading is listed on the blogroll.
Don't say you weren't warned! My sense of humor seems to be lost today, if anyone finds it, I would much appreciate its return lol.

I tend to get a bit disillusioned this time of year because nearing the conclusion of another trip around the sun never seems to mean that I am actually doing anything different--I'm usually pretty much right where I was the last time around lol.

In home care-giving is trying to suck me back in...

The last time I did in home care...Well, it was pretty wretched. I was so over the moon delighted when Alpha told me to quit. Seriously, if I could do back-flips...
Then my former employer committed suicide several months after I quit.
And I said that I wouldn't do that kind of work anymore.
Because often, paid caregivers are the only thing in their life that people who require care can control. So they will exert that control to the entirety of possibility. You will see them at their very worst, and no matter how much they need the help, they will still resent your presence simply because they do need it.
And the state wants to know everything about you just short of your children's eye color.
And the job will always end in the same way whether you stick it out or quit--that person is going to die after years spent in pain, fighting against their own body's refusal to do as it should.

Yea...

I could moan about why on earth do I find myself doing the same crap I don't like to do over and over again. But that answer is pretty obvious--we take what we can get, and what we can get is largely dependent on what we are good at doing.

And it's ironic because, really, how does one get to be so good at doing things they despise?

At the moment, there seems to be no s to Alpha's D.
Because I'm too caught up
in all the things that are, or could have been.
In all the things I should have, but didn't do.
In the things I did do, that I maybe shouldn't have.

Because as another year goes by, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Because on my son's birthday, my mom felt the need to remind me how much mine was absolutely going to suck when it rolled around. Which is okay, because I understand the sentiment--I always miss my dad more on my birthday, and I know it's hard for her because we're human, and we like to reminisce about our children's birth with the other person responsible for their creation.
And it really is okay, but I still feel that it was an unnecessary point for her to make lol.

And that, is all the good news from the happy corner today!

Through the Wringer

My washing machine quit cooperating with the spin cycle a while back, but I developed and perfected a wonderful method for it:

1. Turn heater on low.
2. Prop heater up against front of washing machine, placing it exactly in the front and tilted up, (very important).
3. Make sure heater is in its proper position for the last 11 minutes of the wash cycle, (not 12 minutes, not 10 minutes, 11 minutes).

It worked wonderfully!
Until I had sheets, towels, and work pants to wash all in one day.
And then it didn't.

Sigh.

I have however learned a couple of things about wringing out one's everyone's laundry by hand:

1. This one is very important! For gods sake, do not use cold water for the wash cycle!
2. If you wring out each load on top of the next load to go in, you can cut down on trips to the bathtub.
3. It's a rotten way to finish off one's workout.
4. It might be a valid option to only allow one change of clothes per person per week.

You know, this is not what I had in mind when I said that learning is fun...