Statistics

Age: Thirty Four. Date: February 12, 2010 Friday. Time: 9:57 p.m. Place: San Francisco. Activity: Nil.
I am a single beautiful woman with mucho qualities to offer yet I prefer to walk my dog in the dark and not make eye contact with anyone on the street. On a Friday night. In San Francisco. Why? What will I become if I don't start putting myself out there? My mother? No offense to ma, I love her like no other but she is lonely lonely lonely. And I am thirty four. All I have to do is find a group, like the ones I saw huddled on sidewalks during my walk this evening. Many of them, people talking and listening and drinking. I bet there was little singing and skipping and I know there was no solo blog typing. But it's okay, I know it is. Well, I hope it is. Being still in the murk I attribute the cause. But I have always been like this. Shit. I really need to start listening to Glo. Details: Happy I finally wrote here again. Comments: 12. Known Commentee: 1. Feeling: Utterly Surprised.

Finally out of the fog

The new year started eleven days ago, I turned 34 five days ago, and I finally figured out the man I have been with off and on six years was exploiting me to no end. I became empowered. It's embarrassing to talk about and perhaps that is why it persists as it does. I want to do some work with other women, shake them into knowing they can leave a bastard who either physically or mentally abuses them (you do not have to be with anyone you don't want to be with). It is no way to live and I wasted six years of my life. SIX YEARS! I noticed my soul slipping away, but it hasn't gone yet I can still cry.
I am gaining self confidence. I can go to a record store and buy some new music. I will go to events that I want to attend. I will talk to men and make male friends! (not looking for sex AT ALL). I can wake up with my favorite radio program and best of all, I wake up alone in my new bed!
The thing that makes me the saddest is how prevalent domestic abuse is in our society. A friend of mine said to me that everyone has to go through an abusive relationship because you learn so much from it. Let's hope not! I have learned, but there are definitely better ways to learn about this taboo yet common affliction. I know this blog is probably never read and I haven't even expressed myself how I would really like to. I guess I just wanted to tell the world and no one that I am a healing woman who still has her soul.

Isn't it the best to be woken up happy by spectacular dreams?

An old church going friend, Wendi Peterson, and I are sitting at a cafe in SF talking when in walks Hillary Clinton and her husband (but it's not Bill, it's some famous, balding and fit movie actor who I can't place quite yet). They have a seat at our table and the husband introduces himself and his wife, like we wouldn't know who they were. We start chatting, me mostly with the man. He asks if I'd like to get together and talk more later since he was sort of in a rush. Sure, sure. As Wendi is talking to Hillary, she asks 'why do your haircuts always look so bad?' Which Hillary seemed a bit shocked at but not offended, and I offer in that I have the best stylist in the city. She agrees to see him, but has to leave in an hour and a half, but Jon's cuts take an hour I tell her. We plan to schedule next time. I call Jon all ecstatic and ask if he would be willing to do Hillary on a minutes notice, because she is an awfully busy woman. He agrees. And then I message him on facebook and link this entry for him to read.

revelations, realizations..

Yesterday was the one year anniversary of my dear grandmothers death. I wonder if my cousin who missed her funeral cause her dog was sick thought of her. I no longer wonder why I don't communicate much with my extended family. It was also the anniversary of Glo's mothers death, which is kind of serendipitous I do believe. So we went to church. Aka synagogue, an experience I'd never had in my thirty three years, so I decided to go and try something new. Glad I did, cause now I know I don't. The services were quite lovely with all the singing in Hebrew and the temple is quite beautiful. But when the young Rabbi blessed the sick and then asked the congregation to say names he may have forgotten when his hand passed over them, well, that was it. Here is this man, balding, over weight, draped in wrinkled silk standing far above us with a hand outstretched slowly passing over the people seated below. I did not like the image this portrayed. Why must the people sit and worship in stone cold beautiful buildings when there are things as magnificent as trees close by? And how could a man, no less, create these trees and shores and earth and light? It just doesn't add up. Can one believe in God and evolution too? Cause my long lost cousin Ardi sure wants to get together for some good old fashioned girl time. Boy do we have a lot to talk about. And I'm sorry Mary, you are not invited.

back from the scent of the Earth, into the scent of the Sea

And I can't decide which one I like better. A tough choice when the scent of the sea is intertwined with earthly smells too. But the smells on a small biodynamic family farm are different than those on the overly producing sorts. You know, the kinds where the animals live, eat, bathe, slaughter in their own shit. The farms that shouldn't even be called farms where most people eat from, even those uber conscious ones like meself.
But yesterday, I harvested veggies, hung around animals, and stargazed wishing my habits will be more open to establishing better eating styles before I become two then three and four.

Can barely wait

For a few things..
In a few hours I will be leaving these scummy city streets headed up North to a farm. Yes a real farm, with goats and sheep that have been sheared and billows of straw and stars oh the stars. And get this, tomorrow morning is harvest day. I will be putting my hands in the dirt, plucking fresh food from the earth. Rising early and working hard, just like the way it should be done. I am going to post pictures here, on my beloved and probably on the bastard son too.
Next? The Pixies are doing a reunion tour and I was lucky enough to get a general admission ticket. And why is this concert going to be so spectacular? They are playing Doolittle in it's entirety! If only they would throw in Come On Pilgrim along with it. Never satisfied American am I.

famous eleven last words

If I hadn't been raised a Daughter Of God, I may be able to write those words down here. But since I stand for truth and righteousness, and they all contain profanities, I am choosing not to publish them. Besides, the only reason I'm posting something is that I feel pressured since I link this blog on my facebook account. Is that a sign FB is overpowering the freaktothefunk?
How could that be? Stand tall steady typing finger, free flowing words, and raunchy English. This is fancy ham.

Happy Birthday Fran

I wish this wouldn't be happening but it is. I am posting more on facebook than here on my beloved. Perhaps I'll reserve this space for the lengthy paragraphs and leave the bastard network for one armed sentences.
Big day for me yesterday and I'll tell you all about it now. Remember the relationship I left last November and then had to return to (forget the numerous times in the past) to help him mend his stab wounds in January? Ya the relationship I wrote about in the past, the one that started off as an infidel and dragged on a mere six years. Well I'm out of there again, once and for all. You mark my words dear dead grandma on the day of your birth, I shall never get involved with that glorious human being again.
I got me a room in a house that is undergoing remodeling, it's a great tiny space with a huge window that I can watch the clouds and fog race by. And for my window shade there is a surprisingly looking healthy city tree that covers just enough so I can be naked while the laptop warms the breasts.

since I'm in therapy and all

Due to my current relationship situation I asked my father if he ever regretted being so cordial with his x wife, my mother, enabling him to meet other females and basically get on with his life. His answer somewhat shocked me in it's utmost honest and simplicity "I never think about that, that was years ago." Is this what happens when you've reached the golden years? Never to think about the past, sounds good to me!!