Diggity too...

I had been thinking about her lately.

The last time we met was over a year ago. Usually the extended quiet times between our conversations is a bad sign.

Songs played on the radio that reminded me of her. Pictures of us would fall into my sight, yet I had no way of contacting her.

The latest phone number I had was disconnected.

Then out of nowhere, my phone rang.

It was Diggity.

She found my Christmas card with a plea for her to call me on a green stickie note.

I was right.

The quiet time was not good for her. Life continues to knock her down, yet she still manages to get up from it all.

Sometimes I wonder how she does it, but then I'm reminded that I really don't want to know how she copes with it all. It's too sordid and messy for me.

She always takes the scarier path. The one designed to kill you young.

I'm just glad she made it through one more time.

I fear that one day she won't and that the silence between our conversations will be permanent.

I'm not ready for the silence. I don't think I'll ever be.

Head over heels...

As I climbed the bluff, I could see the ocean stretched out below me to the left. Wild flowers peppered the golden sea of grass which framed the skinny path I was walking on.

I was aware that this trail was made by my feet and that I was completely at ease and familiar with it. The wind blew my hair into a tangled mess and my long skirt whipped around me.

The mid-day sun shone overhead and I could feel the warmth on my face. I looked up to the sun and smiled. As if I were at peace with my nature walk.

As I climbed higher and higher, I could see where the land leveled off and there was a flat spot where I could sit and let the ocean breeze lick my skin.

Right before the path ended, I purposely stepped off the edge into the vast space of nothing.

I could feel my body twist and my stomach lurch. My arms went up to try and grasp something but all I could do was grab air. I was free falling.

That’s when I woke up.

[Blank]

Stuck in a rut. My mind is set on blank.

I have static in the attic.

I'm mentally hibernating.

My reception from the creativity channel is fuzzy.

The dream I had the other night reminded me that I haven't set pen to paper in a long time.

Usually I look forward to the mentally quiet times, but I find that I miss all the observations of even the most basic odd thoughts.

I feel myself starting to become more aware of my surroundings. Words and phrases are starting to stick with me.

It won't be long before the bottle neck opens up and I won't be able to write as fast as I think.

Dizzy...

I found myself singing as the piped music played over the sound system.

As a child, I loved, loved, loved this song.

I would show up at the front door of my best friends home early Saturday mornings. She wasn't allowed to cross the street by herself.

Neither was I, but I was a rebel and did it anyway.

Like a magnet to steel, I was attracted to her in an obsessive-best-friend way.

The front door would open and I would push my way into the living room. I was like a tornado they just welcomed into their neat home.

Ignoring the protests of her mother, I would race down the hall towards my goal.

I would burst through the door unannounced and only then would I consider this the beginning of my day.

She would always greet me with a smile. She always seemed to expect me and was just waiting for me to show up.

We would spend the first few minutes talking abut whatever 7-year-olds talked about - probably Barbies.

Then her mother would show up to make sure I wasn't leading her daughter down the road to ruin.

Once she left, then the fun would begin.

Out came the record player and on went the K-Tel record. Vinyl has the most excellent pops and crackles. If you jumped or bumped too close to the player, the record would skip. A whole other kind of fun.

She would carefully find the right track to play and then let 'er rip.

There we would hear the music flow out of the tiny single speaker.

The world suddenly had an unburstable bubble that we were safely tucked inside.

Our bare feet hit the yellow shag carpet and we would start to dance and sing.

Every time I hear that song, I smile and start to dance.


"Dizzy, I’m so dizzy my head is spinning
Like a whirlpool it never ends
And it’s You girl makin’ it spin
You're making me dizzy"

Save the drama for your mama...

My last nerve plucked, I am once again reminded why I don’t have a lot of girlfriends. The ones I have are pretty much like me.

No frills.

Her voice, while normally pleasant enough, is driving a spike through my head today. I’m pretty sure she’s raising her voice so I’ll acknowledge her and her newest dilemma.

I turn up my radio and try to tune out her incessant chatter.

Drama, drama, drama.

I’m too old for this crap.

Actually, I have a really low tolerance for bullshit and she’s full of it.

The range from maniacal laughter and sullen mood fluctuate during the day.

The women around me feed into her web of insanity.

I can’t do it.

They try and “help” whatever situation she’s stumbled into this time. She feeds on the attention and most certainly craves more and more.

Is it bad that I just want her to shut up so I can go on about my day?

Cosmos...

His expanding universe causes me problems.

My world travels around his sun.

'Round and 'round I go. Where I stop, nobody knows.

My orbit around the sun pulls tighter and tighter until I am suddenly scorched by a solar flare.

A cosmic bitch slap that sends me spinning wildly out of control.

My world gets tipped on it's axis and I feel the sway of my core being thrown off kilter.

I try to back off and find a looser trajectory but it's difficult.

He is my morning sunrise and my evening sunset.

Watching from a distance, I see my bright star grow and shine.

The cold I feel can't last for long. At some point he'll miss his small hovering planet and bless me with a ray of sunshine.

I don't know.

A supernova is also entirely possible.

Two of us...

Two of us riding nowhere
Spending someone's
Hard earned pay
You and me Sunday driving
Not arriving
On our way back home
We're on our way home
We're on our way home
We're going home

Two of us sending postcards
Writing letters
On my wall
You and me burning matches
Lifting latches
On our way back home
We're on our way home
We're on our way home
We're going home

You and I have memories
Longer than the road that stretches out ahead

Two of us wearing raincoats
Standing so low
In the sun
You and me chasing paper
Getting nowhere
On our way back home
We're on our way home
We're on our way home
We're going home

You and I have memories
Longer than the road that stretches out ahead

Two of us wearing raincoats
Standing solo
In the sun
You and me chasing paper
Getting nowhere
On our way back home
We're on our way home
We're on our way home
We're going home

We're going home
Better believe it

~ Beatles

Binged and purged...

I felt the urge to purge. My life had become cluttered with shit I didn't need.

My closet was dumped out on the floor in front of me. How did I amass so much crap?

I made my "keeper" pile and a "toss" pile.

Why did I keep shoes whose soles were falling apart? Because I've walked through a rainbow of emotions in them.

Do I need to keep them? Probably not. They're truly unwearable now. They've served their purpose.

Little mementoes are tucked behind piles of shoes. What was that folded paper bag for? I don't remember.

I slowly go through the clothes and pull out the items I'll either never fit in to again or would never wear again. Because lavender pedal pushers aren't me any more. As if they ever were.

I de-clutter my closet and realized that I've been doing the same with my life.

I'm cutting out all the bullshit that has weighed me down. I've let go of the friends who no longer play well with others. I've shucked the bad outfits that no longer represent who I am.

I've cleaned up my life.

Now I'm ready to start collecting the new and wonderful.

I think I'm going to start with a new pair of shoes.