ER

Ocean blue and slate green, soft brown and blond, yellow ochre, fire red, white and bright filling up a room. I can remember the colors. Washed khaki pants, sky blue blouse with petite white pocadots, little opened toed heals with a bow on each side. Green carpet, clean white shoes with red swooshes, a blue tee shirt.

This one day and the week that followed still fade in and out of my mind. Why have you left such a colorful impression on my mind when after that one week you were nothing but colorless? I don't understand why it seems easier to hold on to things which are not there. In this case I have nothing to hold onto except the memory of color, which really doesn't make sense.

Gone now...the color all gone.

Minny

Kitty cat has found herself up on the kitchen counter. I scold her, fearing that she will find the butter and lick it, leaving few people desiring to slather it on their toast. I pick her off the counter and place her on the floor. I return to my ginger snaps and turnaround to find her back on the counter. There is a little door with a high window next to the counter, she cares little for the butter and is trying to get a better view out this window. I decide not to scold her and instead take her in my arms and lift her up to the window to watch whatever it is she's so insistent to watch. Our faces pressed to the pane, we watch two squirrels humping and scurrying up the tree. Kitty's eyes grow big and curious. We watch the squirrels until they are out of sight. Now kitty sits quietly and patiently at another window.

Pieces of the Puzzle

I have never been that great at puzzles. Maybe it's just lack of practice, or impatience, or that there seem to be better things to do with my free time. It's really the intricate puzzles that get me, ya know the one's with 3, 000 pieces? But more and more I think maybe I should pick up the art of puzzling. If I did, would I achieve a sense of accomplishment or a feeling of success because I was able to piece together something that I could never see as a whole?

I got to thinking about puzzles after I told a girlfriend how, " I keep getting pieces of the puzzle but I never get the whole thing. " I often say things of this nature, without really thinking about what I am truly saying. There's the ambiguous and symbolic profundity, which sounds good but doesn't really make any sense. I should know better than to make such comments without knowing there meaning. (I can't help it, I studied the Greeks and all those French Transcendentalists. But what did they know anyway they were too busy drinking copious amounts of red wine and absinthe to get the answers. That shit fucks you up man!)

So, what's the "whole thing" anyway. Is life one big puzzle like everyone says? Are our lives but a mire puzzle, where you have 3, 000 pieces which your supposed to assemble into a whole? Wait, who puts it together? Me, you, or both of us? Are we given all the pieces? If I actually did have the pieces would I even bother to take the time to sit down and put it together? Then, would I be able to put it together or instead get raging mad and throw it back in the box? How am I supposed to determine which piece goes where, or if I even have the right pieces? What kind of puzzle am I creating anyway? Divine Oracle, can you give me these answers? Could you at least tell me how many pieces I will be working with? Or let me look at the cover of the box? What am I putting together here?

Oh right. My life. Um well, then this is going to be one funny ass looking puzzle. I better get to work. Shit!

My Cat

My cat is trying to drink my whiskey on the rocks. She is utterly fascinated by it. Last night I just let her play with it and have it her way. Tonight I am trying to hide it from her and she keeps finding it.

My cat loves to take a shower with me. She sits between the two curtains and often ends up getting very wet. She doesn't seem to mind. She loves to watch me get ready for work. Often when I am applying mascara she will look at herself in the mirror along with me.

Very cute cat-loves to play, clumsy and totally moment to moment.

Lucille

In all my years of waitressing I can't say that I waited on someone like you. Lucille was like an angel. Giving me life advise as I inspired her with food. It was symbiotic. With every course I brought to her she was filled with joy and gratitude. Her delight was infectious.

Lucille and I blended better than cream in coffee. It seemed too personal and I would have liked to have met her in a different context. I would have liked to sit down with her over this food, but sometimes when things come to us in life, we just have to take them as they are. She had requested me as her waiter for the second time, work is work- and so here we were. We talked of astrology, theatre, and becoming a doctor. You had worked in the medical field yourself. "Just remember that you can do anything", she said. You reminded me to meditate, to write down what I wanted out of life, to create a list of characteristics to look for in a partner. You reminded me of things that were obviously cliche, but of things that I had long since forgotten. One of the best things you told me was to not be scared of math and science and seek out tutoring.

Lucille, a Virgo herself, told me that us Virgos live in our heads, which, is a good thing, and not a bad thing after all. I told her that it's recently been effecting my life negatively. You were assuring and told me that I would be fine, that my analytical thinking works in my favor, and that someday I would learn to relax and not be so perfecting. She had finally at the age of 60. Nothing in life is perfect.

Through out my life people have told me that in whatever I do, I would succeed and be a valuable asset. I can't say that I always believe them because the truth of the matter is, I just am who I am. I think about myself a lot but I really think of others more. I never want to flaunt who I am, though I could be center stage- as long as it's done with sincerity and honesty. Sometimes I feel magnetic and it scares me. It reminds me of the timesI had the highest batting average, let in one soccer goal for an entire year, jumped 16 ft in the long jump, received a standing ovation at my first group singing class. I felt my power at a young age. It came out of the blue - it was a place of passion and love. Indescribable. I believe that a certain level of magnetism is important in this world and so is confidence. Success seems to be a balance between confidence, grace and talent- but more over, discipline.

Lucille had a refreshing confidence and perspective on life. She was willing to share and be candid about her life. I liked that she sat there reading and remaining nondescript as a single diner. She could handle being alone and she enjoyed it. Her husband didn't enjoy solitude the way she did. She seemed okay with this. It wasn't all these things though, it was just something about her. She was like a clean cool air. I swear she had wings.

It's interesting how people come into our lives. There have been two people this year who have come into my life, unknowingly, perfectly and unexpectedly. Both have felt fated. Maybe I attracted them because at that time I needed them most. One was a man and the other Lucille They inspired me and made me see life and myself just a little bit differently, and for that I am so grateful.

Inspiration

I am yet again inspired to blog because of my fellow blogger. She really makes it seem effortless. I am not a hermit. I suppose I could sit here and write but the sunny morning skies, flock of geese, and most things active usually precede me sitting in front of the computer. I also know that winter will be heavy upon us. Even after all these years of Internet and computer I still don't like the computer. It doesn't feel like a natural tool. The only reason I am on it these days is to research graduate schools, stare at Facebook, and check my email for your email.

I think blogging is a poor sport for me. I confess and reveal more than the reader needs to know. I use "I" too much. I preface and disclose everything. I just think it would be smarter to write in a journal. Oh well. What gives? The only person reading this nonsense is my fellow blogger and jogger.

Yes, me and the brilliant blogger ran the other day. I must admit that I was a little crazed on our run. She ran behind and I sped ahead, not out of competition but just out of my need for speed. I also have been wanting to push myself. I am inspired by Lance A. LIVE STRONG or DIE!!!! That's my version of the yellow wrist band.

Life is weird. Today I wanted to cry and I couldn't figure out why. I keep wanting to go to confession. I keep wanting to enclose myself in a black box, in darkness and have someone listen to me. It's a feeling I haven't had before, it's a craving.

Life seems to be of longing, of pain, of confusion, of dissonance, of subtle wretchedness, of overwhelming vanity, and of ambiguity. I am scared of where the world is heading and as for myself I have no idea, which is really kind of fun after all!!!!

Rammblin Uneditor

Hide and go seek. Is that how you say it? Or is it hide and then go seek? Or is it hide end seek? Or hide in seek? I think it must be hide and go seek.

Uh yeah anyway...I crack myself up. I am glad I can atleast do that for myself. I think most times people don't get my humor, it's either really subtle or totally obnoxious( I do have poopy humor). So it pays to be funny to myself.

This is a strange blog. How do people write on this shit and not want to edit the crap out if it. Maybe it's that I don't know how to do it....is there a certain format to follow? Fuck I don't know.

Eh.....uhhhhh.....well, I could reveal more but I am not ready for that shit.....