Venti chocolate latte with a peppermint shot..

My hands start to shake.

I hold my fingers out and see the slight tremors. I try to relax and find that part of me is sedentary, yet the other wants to run around the room.

I hate when this happens.

I am once again reminded that I'm getting older.

I shake my head sadly.

Damn coffee.

It tastes so good but makes me shake from the inside out.

This never happened to me when I was younger.

Am I now going to have to rely on decaffeinated?

My Barista may refuse to serve me such dreck.

Go soak your head...

When I was very young. When my world had just been blown to bits. When my beliefs of how life worked were irretrievably broken - there was a safe haven for me.

If I behaved myself all week long (and I asked nicely) I would be given a special treat.

It didn't always work out for me. To say I was a handful was an understatement. I knew the ladies in the school office.

And they knew me.

But, there by the grace of God go I, every now and then I would actually be able to pull it off.

Even though a dirt clod would tempt me, sometimes I needed my treat.

I didn't want them to know my weakness. That I could walk away from candy, but not this.

So they had me and they knew it. I knew it.

A simple hint that it could be all mine lurked just beyond the closed door.

It made me set a goal in my young life. Something to look forward to when I thought all was lost.

There it was through the shabby kitchen. The last door on the right held my prize.

On those special days, I would sit on my chair just next to the door in the afternoon sunlight and ask nicely.

Her large face would smile down at me and she would take my small hands into her fat palm and she would lead the way.

The door would open (for I was never allowed to enter this sacred room on my own) and I was given sanctuary.

There it stood in all its glory.

A pink claw-foot bathtub filled to the rim with hot water, bubbles, 2 cups and 1 Barbie.

I had reached my version of Nirvana.

The door would close behind me and I would be left standing alone in the dingy bathroom.

Even at that young age, I knew beat-up homes when I was in one.

It didn't matter to me one bit.

I ripped off my clothes and jumped into the steaming water.

The bathtub was so large and I was so small I could submerge myself and swim.

I would hold my breath and sink myself to the bottom of the tub and look up. (splashing was not allowed)

Over and over I would float myself in the best bath I ever had.

After what seemed like forever, but still not long enough, she would come through the door.

Knowing the drill, I held my water puckered fingers up for inspection.

She would always tell me I was "done" at that point.

My treat was over.

She would pull the stopper that was attached to a chain and loop it around the faucet.

The water would drain much quicker than I wished it to. A tiny whirlpool sucking down my worries to be forever gone,

I was wrinkled and squeaky clean.

I would emerge from the bathroom back in my school clothes with a sereneness washed over me.

I was ready for my real world again.

As I sat by the front door with my hair still damp waiting for my mother to come pick me up, my mind was turning.

How was I going to make it through another week without throwing one dirt clod?

Head meet desk...

She won't shut up.

I listen to her chatter and sing badly all day.

She's not a bad person because of it.

There are days I don't want to strangle her.

However, today is not one of those days.

Baby

i finally know what im going after
i'm learning to let in all the laughter
Holy Moley you´re so funnny
you crack me up, you crack me up

Look out for dreams that keep returning
´cause magic ain´t no hand-me-down yearning
you gotta feel it you gotta want it
the way i want you babe, the way i want you babe

Traveling by choo-choo train
We know where we just don´t know when
Like some everlasting union that i love

Never heard a better bad joke said outloud
you flip-flop and i Wall out
can you believe it?
i can´t belive it
but it true

You´re giving eighty billion years of giggling
a whole new world to live in
but this one´s real, this one´s real, this one´s real

Like some hog tied Kangaroos
You be one and ill be one too
We can play it goofy or we can play it cool

Everything that that happened
you know it doesn´t mean a thing to us
cause so much is going to happen
because
you showed me a sunset overflowing
but who cares where its going
As long as you´re next to me

~Devendra Banhart

Time machine fruit...

I smell like a banana.

Oddly enough it brings back friendly memories.

Bathing suits, beer, excellent music, friends and laughter.

Today I listen to Jimi play the shit out of "Red House" and I thoroughly enjoy it.

My head bobbing and shaking to the amazing noodling of a guitar genius.

My slow smile and closed eyes take it all in.

I could play this song again and enjoy it just as much as the first time.

It's a reminder of what seems to be forever ago.

Lying on the dock with my friends. The boom box playing the Dead most likely, but usually something "classic." (Not classical - there's a difference ya know)

We would start off the day by breaking the calm of the lake by waterskiing.

When we exhausted ourselves by playing hard, we would lay in the sunshine and nap.

Conversations were mostly about plans for the night. Where was the party going to be? Who was getting the keg? What time shall we start.

My place was fairly popular.

You could squeeze 6 cars in the driveway. The deck stretched across the entire front of the house.

There was so much room, the Thunder Lizards could jam all night. There was room for plenty of people to crash. And, if i drank enough wine, I would start to cook for everybody.

I loved those days.

The newness of a friendship which grew to love.

The confusion of trying to figure myself out - trying to figure life out.

I was finally opening up to the world around me.

Letting some in and going the next step.

It was such a fun time, I now realize how lucky I am to have experienced it. The carefree life.

I also see that as a a time of growing up. Ready to move on to adulthood. Welcoming it with outstretched hands.

I ramble now because it was such a pivotal time that my mind races. Too many words and not enough paper.

I guess it all started with bananas.

Pokey

I poke the scratch on my face

[poke]

Ouch.

[poke]

Ouch, still there.

[one more poke for good measure]

Ouch. Yep, still there.

At some point I'll stop poking myself to see if I'm still hurt.

One day I will realize I hadn't poked that wound for a while.

[poke]

[poke]

I doesn't hurt anymore, but a scar is now there.

I can remember how I got it, but the pain is gone.

Once again, I've healed and I can go on like nothing every happened.

Why yes, I am wearing cranky pants...

The scratching on the side of the bed woke me from a sound slumber.

A black and white face lunged at mine causing me to throw myself backwards.

My reverse momentum caused me to slam into his head with a solid "whump."

Now I'm awake.

I grumble and apologize for the head-butt I instigated.

Convinced that it was still too early for any sane person to be awake, I roll over and welcome sleep again.

Almost there.

Almost back to total relaxation.

I forgot about the morning assault when it hit me again.

Claws in my face make me raise off the bed screaming expletives.

My voice makes the four-legged creature run like the devil caught him by the tail.

Positive that I had two gashes, I panic.

I run to the bathroom for the mirror with my hand holding my face.

Expecting to see blood dripping down my hand, I remove my hand to assess the damage.

Hey! Where is it?!

I see two miniscule nicks on my chin that hurt like hell.

I glare at my own reflection and doctor myself.

It's going to be one of those days I guess.

Usually I like to just stay in bed when the world gets up in my grill, but I think bed might not be the best place for me this time.

Looks like I'm hitting the couch today.