04/01 Direct Link
There's a bittersweet love affair to where my mind can journey - images of a passionate artist who tragically left this world before any of us were ready. He was the essence of brilliance with vibrant and raw sensual sugar. Reflections of his body on the screen are still so tangible, so carnal with fleshy eroticism. But he was more than sex - more than a surface fantasy with coco eyes and a dark mane in black leather. He's an abyss, an artist who lives on in our daydreaming minds, CD collections, computers and the Internet. He stays with me.
04/02 Direct Link
Songs and images that remind me of a dull, boring, aging and hostile existence. In pajamas, with a world of frickin' spam, popups and adware - makes me want to throw up. That's what they had in mind, I'm sure. Those evildoers who don't have lives of their own but impose their worthlessness on other people's computers. They are the paparazzi of the Internet. Bastards. I have hours upon hours finally to myself to THINK and imagine and write but the hands on the clock decide to run a marathon today while I attempt to disable the CRAP molesting my pc.
04/03 Direct Link
White Oleander, The Museum of the Revolution, The Poisonwood Bible, Gag Rule, Stolen Lives, Trash, Living History, The Anthropology of Self and Behavior, Immortal Poems, One Hundred Years of Solitude, The Sound and the Fury, Romeo and Juliet, Indian Givers, Endless Love, The Artist's Way, Fuel, Animal Farm, Steppenwolf, Origin of Species, The Holy Bible, The Catcher in the Rye, Henry and June, Hotel of the Saints, Shopgirl, Fall on Your Knees, Journal of a Solitude, The Short Stories of Dostoevsky, Letters from the Earth, Anger.
You can glean something about a person based on what lives on their shelf.
04/04 Direct Link
It was a time of reckless abandon and thoughtless recreation - some of us 20, some under. We conjured in an old party house on the corner of town and took pleasure in saucy herb condiments as we sat together on a pit-group couch watching reruns of Cheers and MASH. Our misadventures had company - there was Stevie, the Allman's, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin and Jimi, among many others. I was the darling and you were my brother-like-friends, or so I thought. Some of us were in love, some in lust. We played poker. One scoundrel played games with my heart.
04/05 Direct Link
Coffee - rich, dark, strong and hot - is the beverage of choice for this lass, who hasn't seen a decent night's sleep since the time change. So, what does it take for a sister to get a small deal around here? I'm hoping for that break to finally come from an agent in California who has seen my face and who has shook my hand. I sent her crisp clean sheets of my manuscript, whispering of promise if given a spin on the dial. Money doesn't do shit for me. I simply want people to know who I am.
04/06 Direct Link
In the humid salt wind, with the roof off, a boy and girl raced in his car along the coast. The blackened palm trees swept across the orchid sky and "hush"played on the radio. His hair was soft and brown. He had eyes that drank up spiced cocoa. Her lips, the colour of crushed raspberries, wrapped around his finger. He wanted her. They wanted each other. No one could stop the wheels in motion or the energy that brought them together - serendipity. They were the only souls on the beach at dawn. Crimson and clover, over and over
04/07 Direct Link
It was on a Monday. His departure was while she was at work. She made dinner plans for them. He just packed up his things as soon as she left that morning. He wrote a note on yellow lined paper that began with, "I will always love you, but..."Like the mysterious way in which he appeared in the beginning, he became a wicked apparition on her brain that wouldn't die. There were many after that - trails of beautiful boys with tight bodies and sensuous lips. She found love. How does he live with himself knowing he did that?
04/08 Direct Link
There's a certain breed of people who make it to corporate vice president status. I think it's a snooty quality they picked up in snobbery school along the way like the way children pick up lice. The only thing is, the arrogance can't be washed or picked out. It sticks like superglue to their bodies as they walk like they have a stick up their arss. They only have lunch with other egotistical vice presidents but I wonder how they can eat food as they listen to each other's puffed up, self-important bullshit. I know that I would throw up.
04/09 Direct Link
He was a bartender at a small club south of downtown. Michael. Awesome he was with enduring legs, large hands and a head full of soft black curls that limned his foxy face. He was her charter, her chancellor of peace, her sexual justice in the face of the trespasses committed by the scoundrel who had wanted to be free for the summer - the same rogue she had loved unequivocally.

In the blue light of his bedroom, Michael was enraptured with her and he told her so lustfully. They, immersed in heated pash, without the bastard dragging her down.

04/10 Direct Link
The inner critic's voice has quieted now that I have spent hours biking, working on the bod, breathing hard, feeling my pulse race. The peace won't last though. I'll hear about it again tomorrow. My poor body is subjected to so much analysis, so much criticism and carping, and yet it is a magnificent piece of art made by my creator. Why do we berate the greatest instrument we will ever know? Because something told us that we have to be lean, tight and taut - ready for sex and showing off. That something is the patriarchal society we live in.
04/11 Direct Link
One of the things that have faded as I've matured is a good mid-afternoon beer buzz. I can remember times like hanging out at a roadhouse with a bunch of friends, mostly guys that were like my brothers, on a sunny Saturday afternoon, playing pool and cards, hanging out outside with a group to enjoy the weather and spirits, listening to music and enjoying an unintended dip in the Fox River with all my clothes on. There was always a rumble of Harleys in the distance and someone usually had a guitar. Sometimes that someone was me. I miss that.
04/12 Direct Link
There are people who exert goal-oriented energy, work hard to get things accomplished and usually do their damnedest to get shit done the right way the first time. Then there's that percentage of the population, unfortunately the larger portion, who do only the absolute minimum required of them. These are the people who disregard deadlines and would rather doodle around aimlessly. These are the people who are perfectly happy with getting a C or worse for a final grade, especially because they don't like the class. They shove things under the bed or down inside themselves instead of being real.
04/13 Direct Link
He was kind to her. Sometimes she caught him looking at her during business meetings. But she was married to a creep. The day finally came when she went out for cocktails after work, safely with a group of coworkers, including the beautiful boy from the office. The energy flying between the two of them was palpable. Every knowing glance made it clear that they felt the same. Finally they were alone after years of waiting. They talked into the early hours knowing their time was limited. On his rooftop they kissed like lovers to compensate for a lifetime apart.
04/14 Direct Link
His name was Danny. He lived kiddie corner from me when we were little kids, in grade school, trying to figure out what the world was all about. We'd play in the snow with bread bags on our feet inside our leaky snow boots. His older brothers would always tease - trying to make a cheap romance out of a friendship. Like the time they made us lick the same stamps one after the other - as they shuddered in horror that Danny would actually get my girl germs. We'd shrug and go climb a tree. I wonder where Danny is today.
04/15 Direct Link
I sometimes cry when I listen to U2 - the energy that they emit is inspiring and compelling. After all, I have grown up with them. There are 20 years of memories rolled up in their discography and a lot of the mental pictures that their music evokes are wrapped around days and nights that transformed me from a girl into a woman. It was the coolest to have seen them on their previous tour, especially with my best friend. The Edge is the lifeblood, Bono is the quintessential spirit, Larry is the backbone and Adam is the harmonic balance.
04/16 Direct Link
After years of sobriety, he tells her he can drink moderately. He can now handle one, two, even three heavy beers and have a nice time like anyone else. He tells her that he won't allow bad things to happen. He says to her that his sobriety of nearly five years without a drop isn't really all that and that every day sober as an alcoholic was taken day-by-day anyway. He tells her this, many weeks after he already had three heavy beers. She wonders about how to feel, knowing there isn't a thing she can do about it anyway.
04/17 Direct Link
In the wake of a local writers conference for the weekend, my excitement lingers. I drive away, changed after having heard others' stories and wisdom and having shared my dreams with kindred spirits. After a conference, I always come away as an altered person from when I first showed up. It could take a while - perhaps the first few people I hear speak don't shake up my conscience, but then it happens. One person will say something I didn't know or that resonates with me because of a deeply felt emotion. Something profound takes place, a transformation. I learned something.
04/18 Direct Link
14. She's 14 and pushing the envelope in her parents' face with her little world made of ever-important influential friends and her 8th grade crappy attitude. She's a little vampire of positive energy, dressed in size 0 jeans and Abercrombie t-shirts, sucking the patient lifeblood from the woman who gave her life. And for what? So that she can stretch her independence like silly putty all the way to the therapist's couch? She plays like the poor victim of parental cruelty when grounded for lying. Amnesia has set in after a recent trip to the mall with her mother's wallet.
04/19 Direct Link
I'm going to be one year older soon - on paper. Used to feel ageless and could easily picture myself a 20-something party girl with a beat up Honda, wild friends, mismatched clothes, punked out hair and the best god damn seats to the best god damn concert ever, with party favors and tunage to compliment the road trip. I had an entourage most of whom were like brothers to me. wonder if they all felt that way too, it was typical of guys to try something on me. Now, that doesn't happen. Is getting older equated with becoming invisible?
04/20 Direct Link
Sometimes it amazes and astounds me that I am actually an adult doing the real adult things like paying a mortgage, raising kids, going to a regular job 5 days/ week, watching the news, voting, dining out. It honestly feels like yesterday when I was walking to my grade school 6 blocks away. And it seemed so far! I can still smell the paste, crayons, red rubber balls for kickball and the fresh ink on assignment sheets. I hear the plethora of sounds and can imagine the taste of mock chicken hot lunch. With a sadness, I felt older then.
04/21 Direct Link
It's on paper and I can hear it said. The inevitable words that a woman hates to hear will be mine to regard today. I suppose the alternative isn't any better - in fact worse. I should be thankful. I've been telling myself to write a gratitude list. I do have excellent health and darling healthy kids, a sexy smart husband, a house, a great job, a novel that could be published. A nice life really. I shouldn't complain. There is something missing however - an unconditional love for myself. The self-critic is ruthless and didn't even buy a birthday present.
04/22 Direct Link
We might have to move in the not so distant future because of a job - his. Never mind mine, it isn't as important it seems. Also the fact that I said (before we married) that I didn't want to uproot the children after everything they've been through. That has fallen on deaf ears. I try not to emotionally pack my bags prematurely, it is so hard not to. Where will we end up? Will our house be nice? Will it be an emotionally growing experience? Sometimes we just have to give up control and see where life takes us.
04/23 Direct Link
Dear V: you were a gentle spirit. You showed more substance than most teen boys did. I treated you badly and I am sorry.

Dear B: I liked you too much. I was naÃÆ'¯ve, believing your lies and that we were seriously bonded. Toxic is your middle name. I wonder if you have reflected on your emotional crimes.

Dear T: I'm glad we can talk again after years of injury. We had different visions for our lives but we created beauty.

Dear D: You are my world. Sometimes we're soul mates. But sometimes we're lost at sea without a paddle.

04/24 Direct Link
They were around 16. The night had promised flowers and pink satin, a tuxedo and a hot car. She was tan, he was smitten. The universe opened up and for a moment, and they could all see a twinkling of the future. Afterward, their group went to a house for a private get together. It was subdued. No one had alcohol and one couple fought. Meanwhile, she kissed him in a stranger's bedroom. She remembers that there was a far away storm. Bolts of lightening flashed throughout the dark house as the stereo played, "Everybody wants to rule the world.-
04/25 Direct Link
Courage. It isn't something easily reached when thinking about moving to a new city. It isn't even for sure yet and I'm already packing my emotional bags. Why the fear? It would seem that this home city of mine is stuck on me like old chewed gum on the sole of my shoe. It's often cold yet sticky at times and it's hard to lose because it won't let go - despite my attempts to scrape it off. It's also a pain in the ass because there is so much junk rolled up into it. Yet, it has been my home.
04/26 Direct Link
The cool nip tickles my shins as I stand knee-deep in coffee-colored water. Petals of sunshine float on the surface of the lake. With a pail in one hand, I explore beneath the surface for prizes buried in mucky amber sand. There are hundreds, but only a few are worthy of my collection. With pockets bulging, I reach for a multi-colored stone - its pink bubbly fingers remind me of rock candy. "She'll like this one for sure,"I say aloud, tossing it in my pail. Searching for more, I notice mysterious ripples in the lake water that make me wonder.
04/27 Direct Link
Is it the invisible wind or the lips of fish sipping at the surface? There are circles inside circles of magical movement. Then I see those fleeting dark water bugs I've seen before. They skim along the surface like black jelly beans on ice. I thrust my free hand forward to catch one. Unfazed, it swims away. Several of these black shiny creatures continue to circle, teasing me. We play "catch-me-if you-can,"but they always escape. I can't leave now. This business is too important. Like the flutter of a broken heart, I hear the blue song of the loon.
04/28 Direct Link
Impatient - waiting for coffee without cash and having to stand in line with book buyers who are spending real green. Can't carry it without burning holes in my pockets. Hot coffee - so that I can get comfortable with caffeine as I go to a piano lesson I have barely practiced for. Why do I do that? Or rather, why don't I? I don't practice or play much but yet I so much wanted to learn - all my life. I do the same thing with books. I'm a hopeless starter and my late blooming sometimes gets me in trouble. Paralysis.
04/29 Direct Link
Weekend trip to large metropolis planned - one that promises fabulous days of culture, incredible nightlife. Reality - rain and cold weather, is highly unlikely that the weekend will match what the mind imagines (like in movies): Couple with passionate feelings find exceptional hotel with amazing view and after champagne room service they make the most explosive love of their lives, then dance the night away under the moonlight after a fabulously guiltless dinner while having deep intellectual conversation and their evident passion are the envy of everyone. The weekend essentially transforms their lives from uneventful and bland to provocative and heady.
04/30 Direct Link
Pleasant surprises and epiphanies gleaned over getaway weekend. One - drinking is definitely overrated. Can recall thinking once that catching a buzz in a crowd with loud music is the ultimate party goal. While it's fun, I'm reminded that it certainly isn't worth the guilty aftermath. Two - in witnessing the distasteful behavior by boisterous, hefty, halter-top-clad women over 40 shaking it on the dance floor, I've come to the conclusion that tattoos are a really bad idea. Three - smoking is just stupid. Four - unadulterated fun with gorgeous husband rules. Finally - having kids and living clean with soul mate is most gratifying.