The Day the Earth Stood Still


It’s Tuesday morning around 11am. A beautiful day, cold and crisp without being bitter, and one I should be out enjoying except that I’m sharing troubling thoughts with the vast emptiness of the Internet. Hopefully someone will read, listen, and take heed…otherwise I believe we richly deserve what’s coming to us. Yesterday while on a day trip to Kingman for Whataburger and Cracker Barrel (our first time), during our food-burning break between lunch and dinner, we found a tiny movie theatre and watched The Day the Earth Stood Still. Keanu Reeves makes an excellent semi-humanoid alien, by the way. At the end of it I felt an overwhelming sadness and something akin to righteous defeat. For those of you who don’t leave the house or didn’t catch the original, I’ll give you a quick rundown: Aliens come to Earth to save it from us because Earth is one of a small handful of life-supporting planets in the solar system. The many “alien” races cannot afford to let a planet such as this die to due to one inhabitant species (that would be us) and plan to cleanse the planet of us, hence giving Earth a chance to recover and survive. If you think about it, we as humans are the one species on Earth not tied to any ecosystem. For example: Alaskan fishermen over fish herring, which in turn starves sea lions, lowering their numbers, which in turn affects the food supply for killer whales and sharks. Think about it - if we’re not here, nothing dies because of it. In fact, more things would flourish. Bluntly, we are unnecessary.

Aside from this realization, which is only partially responsible for my sadness, there was a line in the movie that stated: “Only when we’re on the brink of destruction will we change”. That may not be a direct quote, but you get the hint. If you ever ask yourself questions about why we, as the United States or the world, don’t do certain things that would actually help the planet and ultimately save us – there’s your answer. All of it, as far as I can tell, is driven by the Almighty Dollar. There’s no money in going green. God forbid some oilman doesn’t make X hundreds of millions in profits every year.

I think we have it coming. I think if aliens have visited here, they’ve left feeling dirty and disgusted, and if they’re visiting in the future they’ll all agree we should be exterminated for being destructive and having no purpose. I’m currently ashamed to be human. We’re a sorry lot hell-bent on greed and one-upping each other. We think because we can reason and talk that we’re better than any other living creature and should therefore have the right to dominate and kill everything. We’re despicable.

The alien was right – it’s not our planet.

T'is the Season


The Painful Path
Sadness that never really goes away
Space nothing can ever fill
Just cavernous empty you stuff with every
Good thing you can find
But never enough
Cling to the happy when the sad attacks
Put on a brave face, be as normal as you can
Sympathy lasts only so long
Understanding seldom prevails
Hurt and rage - your unhappy roommates
Face it every chance you get
Embrace sorrow so that it may pass
Be not tormented forever
When at last it finally drains away
It will be sunlight on your face
And everyday will be spring



Very few people know, but I used to be an avid poetry writer. Six of my poems were published by the International Library of Poetry, which I thought was a huge accomplishment at one time, until I read some of the drivel they accept. As far as I can tell they publish everything that comes to them in order to sell books, which I used to buy religiously if my work was in them. Honey suggested I write some for my blog. Sometimes poems are the best cohesion of jumbled emotions that have nowhere to go, as is the case with the one above. I wrote The Painful Path a year after my parents stopped speaking to me basically because I married Felix. One year to the day they broke contact, they sent me a video montage of taking care of them when they’re old because they took care of me when I was young, Things a happy family would be happy to receive because it strengthens their bond. Bare in mind, this is a day after I totaled another car and was supposed to leave for a bed-and-breakfast weekend in Zion for my wedding anniversary. I was home alone, completely confused and just fell apart. Honey penned an email asking them to get out of my life if they insisted on continually hurting me. The response said simply that I’d have to ask for that, and if I did they’d “gladly comply”, but he was not acknowledged as my husband or anyone of consequence. After 6 or 7 years of being torn to pieces trying to follow my heart and appease my parents demanding wishes, I was just exhausted and over it – in the sense that I just didn’t care anymore, didn’t have the energy to argue about it anymore, and wanted nothing more than to be at peace. I’m still not over it, per say. I had to pen an email to my folks telling them I loved them, but didn’t wish to have any more contact with them or from them. I blocked their email address. I cried for a long time. This time of year is the hardest for me, Thanksgiving and Christmas and the space in between, when they usually come to Vegas for NFR and to visit their friends. I graduated in 2006 and that year they didn’t bother to visit me while they were here. Those holidays messed with me the worst, I didn’t understand what was happening or why. Then the guilt-trip email following a battered body, totaled car, and nearly spoiled anniversary plans. Thanksgiving is better since last year; we made our own traditions and cooked dinner with family. Christmas is still a bitch though. I haven’t found a way around it, past it or even over or under. I enjoy the festivities with a sort of reserved sadness that I try not to inflict on others. We decorate with the lights outside and the tree, presents, and dinner…it’s just not the same. As it used to be my favorite holiday, I carry a certain amount of resentment for having that ruined for me. I’m working on it. Poetry helps. It’s the physical and mental outpouring of my inner turmoil boiling onto a page; the page traps it and some, if not all, of the destructive emotions drain away. Therapy comes in many forms – I prefer the ones that are free.

I didn’t write all this angst to inflict it on you good people; I just hope that the sharing of it will make it less of a burden on me. I’m so tired this time of year and there’s no escaping my own head. Ironically, I saw a clip from the Christmas Carol where Scrooge was saying that Christmas was a holiday for the buying of things for which there was neither need nor money, and found myself agreeing and even giggling. Financial straights do weird things like that to me. Here, we’ll be as merry as we can. I wish the same to all of you.
Merry Christmas.

I always say I love the rain...

Well boys and girls, the days of the happy flowers may be wilting a little soon. I think I have to go back to work, as much as I don’t want to. I did the math the other day – we collectively lost 72% of our income once we were both out of work – and the other 28% just isn’t enough. I applied for 8-10 jobs today online, mostly secretarial stuff, nothing too stressful or challenging. Found out how much my new car insurance was going to cost and that cinched it. Sure, it’s less than before (one of my accidents fell off my record, finally) but without that DMV will suspend my license within days…I just can’t risk it.

In other interesting news, I’m learning to knit (for-real knit for those of you who have seen me whip out beanies from a loom). I’m doing a scarf and it’s very calming and very fast. I think so far today I’ve knitted nearly 3 feet of scarf and the day’s not over yet. I’ve been wide awake at midnight and beyond lately – why is adapting to nocturnal so much easier than getting up early?

Anybody who got snow today – whoopee for you, we got rain. We slept in today until 10am or so. I am extraordinarily thankful for my down comforter right now, since this old house has single pane, drafty ass windows and Mom’s boyfriend doesn’t like to turn on the heat to save energy. We watched all or part of My Super Ex-Girlfriend, Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man, Shanghai Noon, The Pianist (that might have been yesterday) all while knitting (for me) and random stints of him doing computer things. Weather like this tends to make me hibernate whenever possible.

Hope all of you readers, assuming I have more than one, are fairing well and keeping afloat. Times are tough, shame it’s not a cliché anymore.
Also, I 'graduated' from my introductory make-up class. These two lovelies were my models and submitted to my (albeit clumsy) ministrations. Hope you enjoy.

This Circus we call Life

Ok, I probably have somewhere around 15 minutes for this post and the insanity I describe in a moment will explain why. It’s been utter madness.

First, following a late night meeting at Xpozed magazine, we return to our humble abode to discover our cherished fishing boat has been unceremoniously stolen from our driveway. Neighbors, and even my own mother-in-law were home, but no one noticed or saw or heard anything. Honey saw our spare boat battery in the street at the corner of our property accompanied by a wide water trail; it fell off the back where it had been unrestrained after we used it to jump Sazzy’s car after Thanksgiving dinner. Honey says “Go back, go back! Follow the water!” I’m on the phone with the cops, telling them after two operator changes and two holds, that someone has stolen my boat, I’m following a water trail and I’ll give them an address when I get there. We lost the trail once and did one U-turn, but we found it in an alley/parking lot behind some run down apartments where no boat would ever live. With all the rain and the boat being parked nose-down (the drain plug is at the back and we leave it out when it’s parked) there was enough water to leave a definitive trail all the way to where it was dropped. I asked the cops if I could just take it or should wait for them. They said they’d be right along. We figure that we missed catching the people in the act by about 15 or 20 minutes. The water was still wet on the road and still draining out of the boat where it was parked. Three cop cars and much paper work later, we hitched her up and drove her home. For those of you who don’t know me and haven’t been to the house, we have a 14ft camo green, aluminum fishing boat. Nothing fancy. It’s currently loaded with all my camping gear, about three coolers, and a couple bags of clothes I planned to donate to Good Will. We got it all back, with the exception of one bag of clothes (sorry Good Will) and the trolling motor. No one was around when the cops and we showed up, so no arrests or pressing charges, but we got our stuff back. They wanted the engine we’re sure, but we’re also pretty sure they didn’t realize because it has a steering wheel the engine is connected with a bunch of hose lines and weighs probably 250 pounds or more. One bolt was removed. The following day we chained the trailer axle to the driveway, removed the spare and left side tire (letting the hub all the way to the ground), and drove by the place we found it to make our presence known, you know “we know were you live too”. We’re thinking of contacting America’s Dumbest Criminals.

The following day (Tuesday) was my first make-up class. Via our friend Rex from Xpozed, we’ve hooked up with Ethan Taylor Academy of Hair Design doing all sorts of projects in a ‘trade for labor’ type arrangement that gets me a $3500 accelerated make-up course for free. Isn’t Honey the shiz-nit? So as part of that, I shaved off half my eyebrows this morning. You’re welcome to laugh if you see me, but honestly to me, I don’t look that much different. The way they grow is not how they should be for my face and it makes it very challenging to correct them without following the hairline. Anyway, I had drawn on eyebrows yesterday for the first time and they looked awesome. With it being an accelerated course, classes are 6 hours at a time, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, for two weeks in a row, from 3-9pm. That in itself is a little nuts.

Yesterday was Day 2 of make-up class, where we put it on ourselves to make sure we can do it at all before taking tools to someone else’s face, followed by another late-night meeting at Xpozed (they’re throwing a sick New Year’s party, so if anyone reading this is interested, drop me a line for details) which lasted till about midnight, followed by an impromptu meeting with some local performers who get off work ridiculously late and want to explore some wild photo ideas. I didn’t have this crazy a life in high school or college (either time). It’s wonderful madness to be self-employed. I would never have functioned that many hours for a company, but doing it for me is ok. So our workday yesterday ended at 3:30am this morning and I was wide awake at 7:30am. Don’t ask me why, I’m still trying to work that one out. I need to get to Home Depot today because my closet rod collapsed (T, we’re right there with you), find a few must-haves for make-up class, eat something at some point, get dressed (this is bathrobe writing, baby) preferably in a color that works for me (I learned all about it in class and have to replace half my wardrobe because it’s not my color)…there’s something else, but I’ve lost it. Anyway, the madness continues!