Equidistantly Happy Girl- Photographic trains (& train-wrecks) of thought, and silly random-ness from a Pacific Northwest girl(transplantd to Cherokee country in Oklahoma), and Mama of two gorgeous girls.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Me singin some blues
I did some singin last night at the Dixie. Just went to wail, really. I love being on stage, it's where I feel at home. This was just some basic blues, and I just made up the lyrics as we went along.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Find me the Woodpecker, have him win my heart
My whole being is on the verge of a huge theraputic sob session.
I sit, not touching food in 2 days. No appetite. This morning while brushing my teeth these humungous, emotionless tears streamed down my face. Yet I made no sound. I made no faces. I guess my body decided to have a cry and hadn't told my mind. My mind' s been trying to put it off for forever, but know I'm about to get around to it.
You know, I see little things in life, often so miniscule in gesture, yet epic-romantical in my mind. And it makes me hope. Bad idea.
I'll see the most awesome little grafitti on a street corner. I'll imagine that it's an artsy boy that did it, and it's some clue how to find more of his art. So I delve in, and explore a bit, okay so a little bit like Le Fabuloux Destin de Amelie Poulin, but oh well, my fantasy.
I start leaving my own little art-bits next to his, and blah blah it leads us to meet and immediately be in love.
See, I'm supposed to have love right now. But I suspect it to be a ploy. Something to distract them til they find something better.
Always a reason or an excuse that -whoops, they forgot to tell me that huge detail, it slipped from their mind what loyal is. You know, here I am, a pretty damned good woman, and loyal as all hell, and when I ask for it in return this is the answer I get ;
"I'm learning, and I'm not always going to get it right. I am going to fuck up, and I will hurt you, but I'll be sorry" - I am paraphrasing, but still.
In laymens terms, "I'm gonna keep being disloyal to you, and this is pretty much my written notice to say fuck you I'll do whatever I please, because you are a pushover, and will take it. And always forgive me, as you have before".
And it's true. I am.
But somehow, everyday, I become a little stronger. A little more sure of myself. A little less willing to stick around and wait to see if the people I pumped blood sweat and tears into, turn out to break my heart, or be worth a shit.
Sometimes that angsty 15 year old girl I was comes through, in her emo-glory, and understands, I just sometimes need a day, where everything is "dark" as Benny would always say.
And she'll take a silent seat next to me, and we just bitch. About everything.
I can almost picture myself being under the bridge by my parents' house in Lynden at that age. My God. 15.
A lifetime ago. A couple actually.
Smokin Lucky Strikes, probably, unfortunately snorting Adderall, hours spent staring into the rushing Mt. Bakers' waters.
Wondering how I'd ever get anyone to love such a crazy, crazy girl.
And not for one night. Not just high. Or drunk.
But for a long while. Sober, even.
I care less and less everyday about pursuing anymore that ridiculous thing. Love.
What a fucking four-letter word.
I feel so old in that section of my life.
Damned curse it is to be a hopeless romantic with nothing to seduce and love.
I sit, not touching food in 2 days. No appetite. This morning while brushing my teeth these humungous, emotionless tears streamed down my face. Yet I made no sound. I made no faces. I guess my body decided to have a cry and hadn't told my mind. My mind' s been trying to put it off for forever, but know I'm about to get around to it.
You know, I see little things in life, often so miniscule in gesture, yet epic-romantical in my mind. And it makes me hope. Bad idea.
I'll see the most awesome little grafitti on a street corner. I'll imagine that it's an artsy boy that did it, and it's some clue how to find more of his art. So I delve in, and explore a bit, okay so a little bit like Le Fabuloux Destin de Amelie Poulin, but oh well, my fantasy.
I start leaving my own little art-bits next to his, and blah blah it leads us to meet and immediately be in love.
See, I'm supposed to have love right now. But I suspect it to be a ploy. Something to distract them til they find something better.
Always a reason or an excuse that -whoops, they forgot to tell me that huge detail, it slipped from their mind what loyal is. You know, here I am, a pretty damned good woman, and loyal as all hell, and when I ask for it in return this is the answer I get ;
"I'm learning, and I'm not always going to get it right. I am going to fuck up, and I will hurt you, but I'll be sorry" - I am paraphrasing, but still.
In laymens terms, "I'm gonna keep being disloyal to you, and this is pretty much my written notice to say fuck you I'll do whatever I please, because you are a pushover, and will take it. And always forgive me, as you have before".
And it's true. I am.
But somehow, everyday, I become a little stronger. A little more sure of myself. A little less willing to stick around and wait to see if the people I pumped blood sweat and tears into, turn out to break my heart, or be worth a shit.
Sometimes that angsty 15 year old girl I was comes through, in her emo-glory, and understands, I just sometimes need a day, where everything is "dark" as Benny would always say.
And she'll take a silent seat next to me, and we just bitch. About everything.
I can almost picture myself being under the bridge by my parents' house in Lynden at that age. My God. 15.
A lifetime ago. A couple actually.
Smokin Lucky Strikes, probably, unfortunately snorting Adderall, hours spent staring into the rushing Mt. Bakers' waters.
Wondering how I'd ever get anyone to love such a crazy, crazy girl.
And not for one night. Not just high. Or drunk.
But for a long while. Sober, even.
I care less and less everyday about pursuing anymore that ridiculous thing. Love.
What a fucking four-letter word.
I feel so old in that section of my life.
Damned curse it is to be a hopeless romantic with nothing to seduce and love.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
everything's comin up roses
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| signature madeline face lol |
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| trying not to smile |
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| uhoh she found the door stopper. starts smiling |
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| andddd rips it off. note it is now in her hand. Hi-larious to Miss Madeline |
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| and Desi just lets everythin ease by lol |
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| painting I did for my girls' room 2010 |
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| the scandal. Left; Josefina and Kirsten. Jesse on right |
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| Madeline's Pard'ner in crime, Jessie from Toy Story |
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| a discarded Prince Charming. I chuckled at this. |
Our Native tonque. And style.
For ages, I have wanted an Indian headress. To wear nowhere-special, or to just grace my desk next to my homemade top hat and fedoras. Below are the ones I thought really brought tradition and ferocity to the table...
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| stolen from WE LIVE YOUNG's amazzzinnnggg blog this is Nimirri |
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
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