Popsicle shards imbed
blueberry and raspberry slivers
stranded in my throat
Glaciers will calf before
words will flow
the fire of my cunt
speaks of brimstone
my heart will pump parodies
like acrobats
I pine for some forlorn
puzzle piece
love remains like a black eye.

Never enough

My be’atch wishes
Those last seven seconds
Would last seven more

Lucy left about a month ago. My cat gone again. I miss her but she has many generations of feral cat in coursing thru her mostly blue point Siamese veins. I believe she is happier living on the wilder side of life. Sounds like a david allen coe song. I miss my dog too, but I know he would rather be hang'n with his dog buddy then being my side kick.

So I go to Sedona today for 3 haircuts ($) always a good thing for my always over budget life. And I will go to my poetry group up there that has morphed into a prose thing. I will see my poetry man. Gez, I am crazy about him but he lives up there and I live here. He so dedicated to his writing, so eccentrically self absorbed.

sounds like a torch song bubbling up like champagne. and if I couldn't sully up to a bottle of Don Perion I could always rely on so dry white. So, metaphorically speaking, I sullied up to a young white Chardonnay the other night. Now I feel like I aways did after a night of white chards of the past, hung over and looking for the morning fix.

and I do believe the end of the infatuation with the poetry man must come to a halt. darn. and much like the cheap metaphor this tacky little dog eared tail this story has become, needs to be reworked. and my phone is ringing, a message is left from a former co-worker(male)(married) wanting to get together and show me his photos of his last trip to Sturgis. Ahh the tale getting more tawdry by the moment.

so here I am, back at the blog, my faithful companion, never lets me down, asks nothing from me, its reciprocal, I love my blog, never runs off, doesn't want to be with some other dog, and is married to ME. Who could ask for more.

and here I am

big red paint ball

This is a night I would call my friend Micky. I feel out of wak, out of sorts. He always knew like nobody else what was up with me. I miss that and that alone sets me on edge. I don't believe I've ever felt that way about someone who died. Not even my Mother. What the fuck is up with that. So I called, text messaged, e-mailed, face booked, my spaced, ect... everyone is busy. I'd get drunk if I thought it would even remotely alleviate this feeling. this lack of being able to what, I don't know.

So I thought writing about this nonspiritual hole in my universe might help. And the ability to share this shit with someone might give it some edge of truth. Although I'm not usually so forth coming on the net theres a bit of desperation hanging around. So not that any of this makes much sense, but here it is anyway. This blog feels as about as intimate as everything else in my life. So there the dilemma is like a big red paint ball lobbed at the wall. The godlessness of lonely.

so tomorrow this will just be another one of those nights and like child birth I will barely remember how excruciating it can be. I won't even be able to identify.

Like a rolling stone

In the last week I've scrapped 2 jobs (but kept the week-end one), moved to Paradise Valley (5 miles from the other place), had my car break down twice (to the tune of $150 ish), oh gee, it goes on and on. But really other than living on the financial fringe, life is amusing to say the least. The weather is beginning to take on the perfect luxurious desert fair, Nights being cooler and days are almost bike ridable. So today I am enjoying the end of my 5 day week end and getting ready for my 2 day work week. I won't get rich that way but it does keep me in glycolic peels and axle seals.

Beautiful

">

just dropped by to say hi

as I am so busy basking in hearts on facebook. a mindless endeavor but somehow feels rewarding.

That cute little dog

Pooba, RIP, that cute little dog had a stoke last week and just never recovered. He was such a cute little guy. But thats just the way life is, even the cute little guys gotta go too.

IT'S LATE

and the caps were locked. What? ME CARE? I have dental insurance now. I've never had that before. I've always paid thru the nose to fix my teeth. at 56 years old I feel like an adult. The first time I had that feeling was way back when. When I flew myself to NYC for a hair conferance. Must have been 15 years ago. I was in my 40's before I could relate to my adult side. I've regressed in the last few years. Some days I just can't seem to manage my life. I feel like an orphan just one step away from living out of a shopping cart. I bought a sleeping bag on just incase it comes to that. On sale at REI. I'm not sure how adult that was. I'd like to think I'm being prepared for the shit storm that may or may not come. I CAN always go camping, shit storm or not.

i had 3 more poems published. made ten dollars each. Heres one I like:

Recidivist

drenched in summer sweat

a sultry night births

an illusive dream

it tingles and turns

pirouetting on the periphery

of awake and asleep

time appears not to move

mindlessly I dig through the fossils

so rich with inferred romance

I pine for that stillborn moment

like a junky for a fix

as life lumbers forward

shortly before dawn

I, a recidivist

return to dream again

of the instant my tongue touched yours

and your finger found my vagina.

I have a tooth ache

And tooth aches conjure up the cranky in me. I've been trying to get away from that for awhile and doing rather well with the nice guy thing actually. Until this fucking tooth decay incident. In two more weeks I will have dental insurance so I'm holding out for the root canal. I can't afford to loose many more teeth. Over the years I have spent a a big chunk of change to keep my teeth looking rather pristine but since poverty set in a few years ago, poverty and tooth decay I've got a few empties in the chiclets pack. Ok, so I could live without a front tooth. But 2 weeks, I can wait. Just looking at Alfred E. puts me in a better mood.

It's been a long day

it's baaaacckk!

My custom Cat name got swiped up by something in Brussels.  That something wanted $ to give it back to me.  GoDaddy (from whom I bought the name from never bothered to inform me that I needed to reup funds a few weeks ago.  But, for a fee they would investigate and see how much Brussels wanted for the return of lucyblues.com.  Bet you all know what my hardened reply was.

So am I a gold star family?  The name for families that lost some one serving their country?  Does it count that my father came home from two wars having served his county with severe PTSD and no diagnosis?  Lost to his family for at least 45 years in a haze of social discontent?  A stranger to all who knew him and loony tunes to those who didn't?  Or maybe my x-husband in much the same condition as my father?  Lost before life ended?

I don't need a gold star, I don't want a gold star.  And recognizing families that have lost sons, daughters, husbands, wives to the disease of war is not my issue.  But I just want to know, were do we honor the people that came back but didn't really ever come back.

my blog dissappeared?

cat at her best

Well now, I'm back to life as it was, guess last week must have been life as it isn't.  My car is mobile once again after a most expensive transmission replacement.  But I have fallen in love with the lite rail.  The sad part is it goes very few places and by the Bank One Ballpark, I mean Chase field is one of those few places.  so if Bank One got bought out by Chase Bank, it could be called the JP Morgan ball field as that's really who owns Chase bank.  

Well who knows were that could go in this teetering economy, and whats in a name anyway.  Banks are changing their names more often then me.  My reasoning is more theater then anything.  Like vanity plates on a car. or a new pair of shoes.   And then I also work at Target (French owned) but actually I am employed by Boots a cosmetic corporation from England.  But whats in a pedigree. 

babbling just wasting time until I get ready for work.  I don't feel like going today.  But onward and upward.  bills to be paid.  :+)

Signs of a bad economy

cats are so dramatic

I usually don't put stuff out of e-mails on my blog but this is just to funny.

put me over the edge

so last night after writing my not so winy blog post about winy things, I decided to read.  I picked up Amy Tans latest " Saving Fish From Drowning" a while back.  The first sentence had a read more sort of atittude and I like Amy Tans style.  Well, I put that copy down and wandered around the Borders some more and when I was ready to check out I grabbed a copy of aformentioned novel and checked out.  That was 3 weeks ago.  Last night when I picked it up wouldn''t ya know, the first 15 pages were gone.   And who know where the sales slip is.  Not to mention the Borders book store is  10 miles away.  No biggie with a car.  Shit I say.

Life on the flying saucer

How amazing the new Light Rail Transit is here in the Valley of the Sun. There’s a station about 6 blocks from my house and it goes all the way to Tempe with the usual variety of stops, one being right in front of Chase Baseball stadium, where I work when the Diamond backs are in town. Good thing too, as my cars transmission bit the dust last week. I thought it was just a run of the mill clutch problem, but no, it’s a very expensive transmission failure.

Ok, I’ve lived without a car before, and rapid transit is do-able in Phoenix. And this is a bike friendly town. So I will fix the flat tires on my bike and maybe even spring for a tune-up. And wouldn’t ya know, it’s not just a tune-up but a shifter malady. New Shimono gears, $100.00+. So much for the new gel seat. But at least I have a light bike that can be thrown on the bus for the longer halls. And I’ll get back in shape for the liver I’m waiting for.

But I do have two jobs now. I was sure sweating that for awhile. Three months and then I land two. One will have to go though. An hour and a half on the bus one way with a ten minute hike to and from the bus….. 2 hours if all goes well… well I think not. I have such a hard time with quitting. I don’t even really like the job anyway but I will have to pry it out of my system with a crow bar. I’ve even had thoughts of acting bad and getting fired. Sounds like my last relationship. Hmm, better have a look at that.

And I suppose not having a car will change the nature of my friendship with the Poetry Man as I won’t be peddling my bike to Sedona anytime soon. I may never get in that good of shape again in this lifetime. Darn. That was the one thing I could count on to be sweet and far removed from the bustle of my life. Well I’m certain it will just change, not be lost forever. And isn’t that what it’s all about learning how to ride out life and all of its many turns? Lucy Blu seems to be pretty content and she’s on the same flying saucer as me. Cute cat.

no wonder I haven't written for a while

I'm not sure who was more crushed

Actually no damage was done, just a few hurt feelings.

German Shepherd puppies for sale

Top of the line German Shephard's.  Isn't this puppy cute?  My job to day was to take photographs of these adorable dogs.  Now how fun is that?

Lucy Blu

Check it out

The Rocky Mountain News folded so the writers to it upon themselves to put this together.

http://www.iwantmyrocky.com/

and then theres the Seattle Post 

http://www.seattlepi.com/

Escape and the critically endangered Ethiopian Wolf

I'm tired.  The world as it is, shackled to my ankle, has a direct connection to this condition.  no more news, or maybe just a little bit. (?) I've picked up  the latest book written about Lucy.  "Lucy's Legacy  the Quest for Human Origins".  as I read paleontology speak written for non-majors, I notice I really don't know much about Ethiopia, well the famine comes to mind.  And I wonder.  DC Johanson, the author, mentions political unrest occasionally making his digs hard to do, and the government occasionally booting them out of the country.  

So, I look Ethiopia up, the famine is over by the way, but the atrocity's that country has been thru and continues to go through startle me.  I listen to the news, how did I miss all this.  The country borders on Somalia, that should be a clue.  But thats not my point.  I'm really amazed how Mr Johanson can be so focused.  His book is about Lucy and all the questions that have come of that unearthing discovery.  Focus.  My point.  

No mention, at least not so far, of the 6 critically endangered species, the 4 endangered species, and the 25 vulnerable species, that have been created do to the political unrest or other wise known as War with all it's heinousness. Geez, I thought I should still be eating everything on my plate because children are starving there.  It would seem Ethiopia hasn't been newsworthy since. 

But thats not the upshot of the book.  Maybe it speaks to a more informed audience.  What ever.  I'm impressed by the mans focus on his passion.  Directed.  He does tell a story of bureaucratic hoops but mostly of his love for the bones and the break thru advances in DNA research to back his thesis.  And in turn he passes on to me a step out of my self and away from the ball and chain I have obsessed on recently.  Between the news and my health, both get in the way of living lighter.  Lucy, much like Lucy the cat, helps relieve me of the burdons I bestow on my being.  Priceless.

n medicine (gastroenterology), esophageal varices are extremely dilated sub-mucosal veins in the esophagus. They are most often a consequence of portal hypertension, such as may be seen with cirrhosis; patients with esophageal varices have a strong tendency to developbleeding.

The lastest thing in my life.  

My crazy X B F burned over 30% of his body heating his house with kerosine.  They pulled the plug to days ago.  He had tons of other health problems and last time I talked to him he wasn't really all that keene on life anyway.  But I'll miss talking to him.  The selfish person that I am. 

I have a job now.  can't remember half the stuff I'm supposed to remember. or should I say it comes and goes really. Spot o one minute - left field the next.

and then theres the duck in the pool at my house.  I say Duck a la orange and he just quacks.

got the job

2 days a week $10.50 an hour. cool! Thanks every one for the vote of confidence. This picture is the front of the condos next door where I live. They were looking for a noisy bungler but never found him. He hasn't been to my place yet but if he managed to get in he would probably be to mystified by how I got everything in here let alone how he might get it out.

I'm afraid to talk about it

I might have a job to go to every week-end. I did the face to face interview yesterday.. after staying up almost all night stressing out. It's a job selling makeup. My makeup has become old. The black clothes I was to wear for the interview are all covered in spots.. the remnants of the job of yesteryear. Bleach, haircolor, lunch... And one pair of black shoes. High heals. They always put me in a good mood after wearing them for about 10 minutes. But geez a potential job in a few weeks.

So then thinks I, (I should never think), I have a little extra money and there is a Kolls and a cheap shoes place and I have my calculator. so I have some cheap cute black clothes. and an overdrawn checking account. I cant even seem to work the calculator how am I gonna work a job, so another sleepless night goes by. And its raining.

I really do need to get over to my friends and unload the boxes of stuff that I brought back form Cottonwood. So When I go up next week there will be room for more. Won't have to pay the locker rent when its all stacked at my g-friends.   I really hate being broke. This could be a trashy novel day. the rain and my comfortable bed.

I have an interview up next week. And lots of resumes out. I know I know. It's the times.Any body need a haircut?

just in general

I had a great time visiting with Madame You See at the airport. I find that exiting to talk with some one for periods of time and then have a face to face. I met 2 of my long term BF's that way and met my put up for adoption at birth daughter that way. An adventure in separating the preconceived from the more or less concrete. I've always based my reality way to much in appearance and body language. And certainly that is all important stuff but when I'm not being distracted by it I can really hear what some one is saying. Not to mention all the posturing I am likely to through into the mix.

well enough of that babble of useless dribble. Even more useless appears to be all the job apps and resumes I've papered the town with. a few bites but just not the right bite. I don't think I've been this long without a job in my life. Well there was the year I waited for SSDI to decide I really was sick and poor but I was always doing something around the house, school, Dog park committee and so 4th.

And what about them fierce little red birds. Not so bad for the worst team in the NFL against the 5 time super bowl champs. Make that 6. And Springsteen did my favorite song. Baby, tramps like us, we were born to run. weelll guess that would be enough out of me for now. I really don't have much to say. but maybe someday I will. Just never know what day.

Peace

sky lines

Phoenix

Here I am in my tiny little space in the Valley of the Sun. We have a football team going to the super bowl. It's 70 degrees. My cat has cat friends. Geez I have friends. Theres an orange tree in my yard, but almost all the oranges are gone now. They were good. I have a swimming pool. I have internet access for a price I really can't afford. Unless, of course I land a job. The tricky part. My liver doesn't appear to be getting much worse. Actually it has gotten better since I quit my job in corporate america. Not working seems to agree with my liver. It doesn't agree with me. Life in this country I suspect is in for a bumpy right into the unknown. I would enjoy it more if I was working.I should be cleaning my little house but no, I am blogging. It's my way to get a blog pinched out. just give me a dirty house. And best yet, one of my favorite bloggers is laying up at the Phoenix airport for a few hours next week and we are gonna have coffee.

Lnagston Hughes Poem

Let America Be America Again
by Langston Hughes

Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed--
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There's never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek--
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one's own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean--
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That's made America the land it has become.
O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home--
For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore,
And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa's strand I came
To build a "homeland of the free."

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we've dreamed
And all the songs we've sung
And all the hopes we've held
And all the flags we've hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay--
Except the dream that's almost dead today.

O, let America be America again--
The land that never has been yet--
And yet must be--the land where every man is free.
The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME--
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose--
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people's lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!


O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath--
America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain--
All, all the stretch of these great green states--
And make America again!

alone

I made it. One U-haul and three car trips. Mostly did it my self. but many thanks to my friends Mickey and Gary who helped haul. Today I mostly arranged my little space. It feels like home. Just me. and of course Lucy Blu. No roommates, boyfriends, or other braindrains. It's been a long time. I never realized how much being alone agrees with me. Once, one of the many boyfriends I lived with, felt this good. one. hmmmm No internet yet. So I am wasting money in a internet cafe. Next month. The first thing I'm gonna do.