dear blog,

i have arrived at a bittersweet decision.
its time to say goodbye to you.
its not that i haven't enjoyed my time here,
but i feel i need a change...
i am afraid i've outgrown you.
that's what life is all about, right?
growth.
be it good or bad,
like the stems of a plants,
we grow.
i won't be erasing you, my little blog,
i could never do that.
you have become my foundation on which i walk upon.
i just won't be contributing to you any longer.
as for my new blog,
don't be jealous.
she is young and tender, and i'll mold her just like i molded you.
she'll never replace you, my dear old blog.
for those scarce few who chance upon you,
shall email me and i'll send them an invite to my new blog,
as it is a private one.
fall fades to the still of winter,
and from the dead arises a phenomenal rebirth,
spring.
there's a reason my birthday is in the spring.
just when i feel like i am gasping for air...
here comes spring,
and i am invigorated once again.
cosmically taureans are opposed and obstinate to change,
but i feel it necessary at the moment.
growth can only be good.
i have had a bittersweet affair with you,
but alas, it is time to depart and find my new ground elsewhere.
but you, you are like my tattoo,
always with me.


with love always,
state of grace.

ranting.

the boys are gone
and the only noise is my dawson's creek soundtrack playing.
Honey is sleeping off a migraine,
and the dogs are sleeping off...i don't know what,
lazy bastards.
i am going through nicotine and caffeine withdrawals and its a bitch.
i am antsy and restless as hell.
damnit, boy.
no kool-aid tropical punch Jammers can take off the edge.
my flowers outside are so beautiful,
we've done a good job on them this year.
i am sooo eager for school to be over.
i cannot concentrate,
it feels as if there's a dense fog preventing me from kicking usual ass in school.
which, in turn, aggravates me even more.
/sigh.
anyways, i'm off like a trojan at a bareback-a-thon!

compassion.

i been thinking...
i was his own flesh and blood,
yet he didn't even know me.
he had all of these assumptions about me,
and most likely only .01% of them were/are true.
he didn't know me and he hated me.
can you imagine hating somebody that you TRULY don't know?
what does that say about us if we hate them back simply because they hate us?
unwilling particpants in this vicious cycle of hate?
i think that is what i regret while he was alive.
i regret playing along in that shallow cess pool of a 'game.'
i am not saying that i regret not having a relationship with him,
no.
i am saying that i regret not being okay with not hating him.
i now understand more than ever that sometimes people don't have the capabilities to go beyond their initial judgements of people to look just beneath those book covers.
and that's okay.
maybe they're holding onto a grudge?
maybe they're scared that they've changed, that they've grown up?
maybe they are scared to see the truth of the person?
maybe they're scared that their reason for hating them will dissipate if they truly saw them?
hate can become a comforting crutch that we get used to, if we allow it.
if you take the hate away, then, what?
what will fill its void?
its scary;
uncharted territory.
you cannot expect people to go past their comfort zones.
i wouldn't want anybody doing that to me.
but i tell you,
i get it.
i'll be okay with somebody hating me that doesn't even know me.
what this world needs is more compassion and less hate.

/breathe.

i am discovering many things;
it is hard to keep a set of twin 12 year olds occupied,
"family jewels" are a precious commodity,
fuck or god damnit rolls as easily off their tongues as hey or whats up,
their musical repertoire is much broader than mine
(seeing as to how their favorites include those born 30 years MY senior),
they try to be big and bad but underneath it all they still don't want to sleep alone,
my dogs are annoying, hard headed assholes whom i love and loathe simultaneously,
and it IS possible to unknowingly get sun burned in 68 degree sunny weather while doing yard work.
my top half looks like a damn strawberry,
while my bottom half is as white as cream...
*perverted joke of the day*
strawberries and cream.

ha. okay.
achk.
nevermind.
it sounded funny in my head but now that i've typed it out and actually LOOKED at it,
it looks stupid.
so cross that out.

ah, the beckoning sounds of burping, farting, smelly twelve year olds...
nothing quite like it.

peace out, my friends.
i am being called to show who's the boss on the super nintendo.

i...
so...

ROCK.

i also just discovered that i feel TOTALLY helpless when a pre teen looks at me for help when he's in mid puke.

"what THE HELL do i do?!" ran through my mind,
but this THING inside of me kicked into over drive.
i poured a cup of ginger ale, and made the boy take pepto-bismal caplets.
after he gained some composure,
he took the vomit soaked trash can and towel out onto the back porch,
as i ran him a new bath and offered him girly bubble bath without any future threats of humiliation about it,
then persuaded him to stay in the newly drawn non-bubble bath to "let the medicine kick in."
then, i put his ass to bed with mr. shit breath himself.

so here i sit listening to a mixture of the Juno Soundtrack
and various other songs,
contemplating what just occurred.
it coulda been worse,
especially that its Alex, not Ellis...
one my fellow hyperchondriac.


speaking of being a hyperchondriac,...
i feel a bit better.
not on the outside (because be damned my allergies),
but on the inside.
i feel a bit more complete...
a bit more at peace.
i don't know why,
because i don't know what will happen,
but for whatever reason, i have faith.
maybe this is what the christians talk about?
i don't know.
maybe its just because spring is here?
maybe this isn't a coincidence?
spring is a rebirth,
and its when my birthday is.
Persephone has returned above ground.
on the inside it just feels like whatever's out there,
whatever that driving force is,
is saying to me, "okay, okay kiddo, you're taken care of for a bit. breathe."

plop, plop, fizz, fizz.

okay so today is a lot better.
reconfirming faith can have one helluva effect on one's state of mind.
faith in anything.
in one's own self,
in the world,
in the good,
in friends,
and perhaps even family.
but i think that's perhaps the biggest cookie to chew without choking-
family, that is.
you see,
you can choose your partner,
your lover,
your friends,
even your enemies.
but the one thing, my dears,
that we do not have the leisure to pick and choose is our family.
being the oddball, quirky, OCD-control freak that i am,
this unnerves me.
i can change my scenery,
just as i did.
i can change my lovers,
just as i (painfully and blissfully) obviously did.
i can even change my friends,
but somehow the truest of all friends seem to follow you through those scenery changes.
every Hall has its Oates,
every Blanche has her Dorothy,
and every Pooh has its Piglet.
somehow it is within these scenery changes,
within these chapters,
that a character begins to come into ones' self,
via self awareness.
in that journey,
the standards in which we inexplicably compare ourselves to
are our parents.
and i think we go through these stages in which we inadverdantly loathe ourselves
because of this.
my therapist would probably disagree, but whatever.
i am learning that it is okay that this man,
was,...
he was my father.
whether i like it or not.
i cannot change that fact.
i cannot change who or what he was,
which is painfully obvious.
it is ironic to say that the embicile who was ashamed of me
was the one who did the embarrassing deed instead of me.
i am embarrassed and ashamed to HAVE to say he was my father.
but you know what?
i can change me.
that, i can do.
the only thing i shared with him was i have half of his DNA.
and that is ALL.
and you know what?
though the little girl inside of me is still saddened by every aspect of this,
the adult that i am becoming (begrudgingly) is very pleased that that is ALL i shared with him.
what a relief that is.

...
plop, plop, fizz, fizz.

saving grace.

One time around the block
2 times around the clock
3 times don't cross the little lady

So pretty & oh so bold
got a heart full of gold on a lonely road
she said "I don't even think that God can save me"

(Am I) gaining ground
(Am I) losing face
(Am I) lost & found by Saving Grace
Thankful for the gift My Angel's gave me

Born alone
We die alone
'n I'm just sittin' here by the phone
waitin for the Lord to send my callin'

Street wise from the boulevard
Jesus only knows that she tries too hard
She's only tryin' to keep the sky from fallin'

Any man says it's Heaven & Hell
Prob'ly got somethin' useless to sell
You ask me if I'm saved but what's it to ya?

Blow a quarter
cop another eighth
you're runnin' out of high, you're losin' your faith
Throw your hands up & scream halleluiah

halleluiah x4 Amen

One time around the sun
another year older and my work ain't done
it's time for me to write the final chapter

Deal the cards & roll the dice
sex drugs & rock n roll are my only vice
tryin' to figure out just what's here after

halleluiah x6 Amen

so together, but so broken up inside.

okay so let's have an update.
i went home to Florence and had a fabulous time.
friends and family always warm the heart.
our friend, matt, came down yesterday and took some amazing pictures
which will be posted later.
therapy...
therapy.
evidently, i am doing well in the grieving process,
but not so well in actually facing the residual anger issues.
you see,
while my Y Chromosome DNA Donor was alive and kickin
i had all of my anger issues tucked away nicely in this little corner in my mind.
its been collecting dust for approximately 26 years and has been perfectly nonchalant,
which has suited me and my life quite perfectly.
you see, it was because he was alive was why it was so content just fermenting in the corner.
there was always a .00000001% chance of things actually being resolved.
now, with that chance utterly dissipated, it isn't okay anymore.
it has festered into a rather unsightly boil.
it cannot be ignored any longer.
so in the forthcoming therapy sessions, this will be a pugnacious discussion, no doubt.
the therapist paralleled the trauma i sustained from this "specimen" to PTSD .
i doubt it was that serious, as i was not sexually abused by him.
but the things that i have witnessed, the things that i have perceived,...
it is and was traumatic to me.
when i was hitting my prepubescent stage,
my stepmother went and brought me bras to try on,
but made me model them in front on him,
and he squeezed them, as in 'the girls', all the while laughing at me.
the screams that i heard from her bedroom will forever pierce my eardrums.
the forceful grabbing of my hair and yanking it to tell me reba was a slut...
no child should endure.
and i think that is why i am so adamant about wanting to have children.
i want to give my child what he couldn't (well perhaps, wouldn't) give to me.
i don't think that my wife comprehends that.
i know she doesn't want children,
as she feels she isn't fit for it,
combined with her age.
and i DO understand that.
i do assimilate her rationale.
i firmly believe with all of my heart and soul that in order to heal all of the infliction caused by this imbecile, this is what i need/want to do.
selfish as it may be,
i feel an inner calling for this,...
something that goes deeper than the soul.
i want to undo the catastrophe left in the path of his wake.
i want to make this a better world.
my secret obsession is reading lesbian TTC blogs.
and that doesn't help matters any.
after this entire april fools' joke fiasco, my mom mentioned that i'd better not ever get pregnant.
my retort to that is that medical science has advanced in light years as opposed to the 80's circa era.
or i could adopt.
listen,
i love my wife beyond what words can construe.
she has been there for me when i was truly at my rock bottom,...
but this,....this calling,....this thirst goes deeper than i can try to even convey to you.
i don't want to lose her because there is no one else i want to have a family with.
when i dance in this reverie of my ideal family,
i see me and her and a child.
that makes my heart whole.
it makes my soul whole.
its like, everything inside of me would unite and FINALLY be on the same page.
i do not want to lose her, but i cannot ignore this...ambition...this purpose.
i am torn.
torn into pieces, as kelly clarkson sings.
and it weighs heavily on my heart and soul.
everything works itself outs.
it always does.
and everything has its reason.
i am an avid believer in those.
i have to be.
i have to hold that faith...
what else is there?

"I told you everything
Opened up and let you in
You made me feel alright
For once in my life
Now all that's left of me
Is what I pretend to be
So together, but so broken up inside
'Cause I can't breathe
No, I can't sleep
I'm barely hangin' on

Here I am, once again
I'm torn into pieces
Can't deny it, can't pretend
Just thought you were the one
Broken up, deep inside
But you won't get to see the tears I cry..."

happy april fools, bitch.

i haven't really felt like writing lately...
i've been battling myself to not withdraw into my head.
nothing good can come from that.
i'm trying to talk it all out.
so, let me catch you up...
my biggest fear came true,
biological warefare in the shower, redux.
those six words sum it up best, i think.
i managed to mischeviously and rather wickedly to get my parents involved in my april fool's joke on my sister.
she still is unaware of this.
i tell you,
artificial insemination is a bitch!!
lol.
yea, right.
my mom got all serious and was like,
"you'd better not ever get pregnant."
well damn, talk about putting a pin to my balloon.
maybe i'll consider adoption...?
i'll cross that bridge when i get to it.
i've decided how i'm to fill my summer this year,
playing susie homeaker to my beloved,
with lunch fresh out our garden.
perhaps a bit of another venture on that avenue, too.
i've been catching up on all my schoolwork for the past few days
and my head feels all fried.
fried like mid june- forgot to put sunblock on- and you've been on the beach since 10 am and its now 5 pm- kinda fried.
mmm,...
i hear summertime calling my name.
that means i must cross the hurdle of turning 26.
/sigh.
arthritis, tendonitis,
back issues, allergies from hell,
and other unmentionables...
oh joy.
and i saw where NKOTB are coming back from the boy band beyond for a 20 year reunion.
god damn, i'm old.
/sigh.
jackass and harley have been doing well.
jackson's infection has faded away, thank bob.
anyways, here are some pictures i feel speak for themselves.
peace out, whores.