Dear Anxiety Attack.

Dear anxiety attack:

I'm not sure if you were birthed from the a) Venti Starbucks Coffee I had first thing this morning with no food in my stomach, b) the super chocolaty oozing with sugar and glaze publix donut that followed, c) Wolfsheim Radio on Pandora that blasts Assemblage 23's raw heavy sound dictating my heartbeat or d) the feeling of being pressured to follow someone else's Friday night plans for me....Maybe perhaps, it's e) ALL of the above. Either way, can I have my breath back SOON please?

In addition, I've been meaning to bring up to you that although I appreciate the fact that you are a loyal part of my life...all of these unannounced visits where you stay for a prolonged period of time really must stop. It's kind of rude when you were not invited and I don't know why you are coming to visit in the first place. I'm considering breaking up with you over this. Seriously. It's not me, it's you.

Maybe we should have a sit down with my thoughts, feelings, fears and current stressors. Maybe then we can all come to some rational adult agreement without all of you battling it out and beating each other up. It really makes me tired. Then, when you are trying to explain your side of the story to me alllllllll night long, it makes it really hard to sleep. I'm listening to you, I am...but has anyone ever told you that you talk a littttttle too loud? Didn't your mother ever tell you to use your inside voice? Jeesh!!!!

Listen, I'm really not good at confrontation...so, I'm going to change the station to Ray Lamontagne, eat some lunch, try to compromise, not keep overloading you with my problems and see if you will go on a little vacation. I mean, truly, you deserve it....You've really been working hard lately honey.

Forever yours,

Amanda

Oxymorons...day 2.

It is only Tuesday...and already my week is filled with oxymorons. So....I am taking this opportunity to write a tragic comical blog, FULL of them, to describe in vague detail how I feel.

I'm clearly confused about the constant variables in how people operate. Is it an open secret that I strongly dislike deafening silence? It is my unbiased opinion that the universe might just be evening the odds with me. Hmmmm, that must be it...punishment for being hopelessly optimistic! I am feeling almost exactly how I did 2 months ago, all of this is strangely familiar....and I feel increasingly declined.

Perhaps it is insane logic that I desire intimate strangers. I keep getting it positively wrong and it's sadly funny. As soon as I start to feel somewhat awesome or terribly pleased, a quiet storm arises and turns sh*t upside down.

It is my unsolved mystery. My sun shower of systematic chaos. My pleasant hell.

So, Once again, I will attempt to embrace this linear curve in my journey and not become a human robot living in internal exile.

Sex and the city truths.

"You sleep with someone and start rationalizing the red flags away"

Hahaha!

E-Hoarding.

We all know the show. We all have a grandma who should be ON the show (or maybe I'm alone in that).

Either way....It's a serious (and what I would consider to be a very sad) problem for many people. Although the actual definition of hoarding suggests that items are collected and placed in a HIDDEN location for preservation or future use, it is no secret to anyone that true hoarders sometimes become unable to hide the problem all together, and in turn, end up on A&E for our disgusted judgmental entertainment.

As I mentioned above, my grandmother has alwasy been and still is, what I consider to be a hoarder. As a child and growing teen, I didn't really understand that this was the case...as all of her "collectibles" were saved to help other people or sold at the largest garage sale in Bradenton over the course of several years. (Our family even made the paper several times!) All I knew then was I got to wear the apron, be the boss and most important helper and take strangers money...and that of course, was really all that mattered to me at that time.  Granted, my grandmother isn't "advanced" enough in her hoarding to be on A&E or anything...but as I got older I started to realize that the banana boxes full of old towels, rusted utensils, molded sheets, dusty books, outdated clothing, empty plastic milk or butter containers and bags full of used dirty bread ties...were not useful to anyone at all. Rather, they took up space in every room of our house and every part of our lives. I still cannot remember, to this day, a room not having a banana box stack in it.

I have learned enough about the subject being brought up in it to acknowledge and accept that it has, in a sense, been handed down generations....to my dad, to the grand children, etc. I've gained an insiders understanding about the reasons behind WHY my Nana feels the need to keep everything or why her and my dad dig through dumpsters frequently for "good finds" or a potential sale...., but it still saddens me. It scares me. I know I have this in me....whether I want it or not. I hold onto things, I allow things to hold more emotional value than physical or monitary value and therefore, I cannot let go of them or not grow attached. You can see my floor and stuff...so for now, I'm safe I think....However, this makes me wonder if I'm the new technology reliant, earth friendly generation of a Hoarder?

::enter dramatic sound::

da da duuuuuuummmmmm.....Theeeee E-Hoarder. da da duuuummmmmmm.

I just realized today...I've started finding a reason to save email conversations in new folders in my Yahoo Mailbox. I seriously have sepearate e-mail folders for exes, current attractions...., tickets, family, misc., keep, girls that broke up with me alot, insurance and funny stuff. Really? Should I be worried or is this me just being organized? Why do I need to hold onto email conversations? I guess this would come in handy if I got hit on the head at Nana's by an avalanche of falling banana boxes and lost my memory...but still.

I may be treading on dangerous ground.

Casey Anthony Trial...a beautiful life, after all.

So...the jury is out, and now...back in. After 10+ hours of deliberation, they only find Casey Anthony guilty of lying to the Po-Po (as we from Bradenton like to call police officers) and not of murder, manslaughter OR child abuse.

I am refusing to make this post some long, d r a w n (not to be confused with "drown", aka, what Casey claims happened to Caley...) out opinion of whether or not I think she is guilty of ending the human life of her offspring. However, being that I am a switch hitter (You may also hear republicans often refer to this term as "rider of the fence"), in every sense of the word...I have to at least, be able to apply both sides to the equation to reach such opinion. Soooooo....I do not think there was enough evidence to convict her of murder. Buuuuuutttttt, I definately think she was guilty of extensive neglect, at minimum...which to me, and apparently to Wikipedia. actually = child abuse! DUH! Let us define "neglect"...shall we?

Neglect is a passive form of abuse in which the perpetrator is responsible to provide care for a victim who is unable to care for oneself, but fails to provide adequate care to meet the victim's needs, thereby resulting in the victim's demise.

Demise = death.

I'm not that good at math but Casey Anthony + Caley Anthony + Neglect - Murder STILL equals neglect, which STILL equals abuse, right? Is that definition of neglect not universal? Guess not to these Pinellas County folk. They must be from Kenneth City or Pinellas Park.

As facebook, chat rooms, tv guests and thousands of  blog comments blow up with disgust, shame and shock over this verdict....I am going to make better use of my time. I'm going to start compiling my list of people I can get away with murdering. 

Bonnaroo...Dirt, Music and Self Awakening.

I have been thinking all day about how to find the right words, if there even are the words available, to describe the magic I have just experienced in the last week. I'm not sure those words exist...and I'm definitely not sure that even if they do, I could mold them together well enough to do Bonnaroo justice..., but everything in me is screaming that I need to try.

The immediate events leading up to the trip I've been planning for 6 months were less than magical, to say the least. Friends worlds colliding, plans changing, people added, people dropped out, extra ticket sold, extra ticket not sold, driving all over creation TO sell the ticket, etc, etc. However, at the end of the day...in the retrospect of a day's time...I've come to the realization that ALL of those things worked out exactly how they were meant to, in exactly the order and design GOD OPRAH must have intended.

Before I knew it....it was two Amanda's and a Kirsten, on the road sharing a 10 and a half hour drive, complete with everything 3 ladies would need in order to sleep outside for 4 days in the middle of nowhere + music, laughter, pain to be mended, open minds and welcoming hearts. It was beauty in the making...

We arrived alive and checked in to our newly built, thank the heavens for Priceline.com hotel room, where a good nights sleep and fresh shower were in order. We left to find food and cold cheap beer and found the most hilarious southern waitress as an added bonus. She kept saying "Good Deal" in an accent not one of us could accurately mimic to perfection. We loved her and man oh man, did she love US! She brought us free cider, made us laugh uncontrollably and at one point even tried to work her southern charm to get us a police escort to Bonnaroo. Stephanie was a sweetheart...., a true Tennessee tip-working terrific.

Skipping ahead to the festivities, (which I will have to try and mash together)...Festivities meaning all 700 acres of land occupied by 90,000 music loving hippies. We struggled at first to set up the 8 person tent which we borrowed from Amanda's brother...but then we met Sam. Our ever so macguiver like neighbor, who helped us, welcomed us, introduced his gf Amanda (yes, another one) to us, schooled us on the Roo do's and dont's and in the end, became more than just our neighbor and our all around "go-to" guy, but became our friend.

We drank alot, ate a little, people watched, collaborated our schedule, wondered off to find cheap coffee and access the walk of shame to the port-o-potties. The teepee tents, Lackin road (which we cutely nicknamed "bitchez are lackin' road") and a Britain Flag were our landmarks in a sea of cars, tents, tall grass, mystery bugs, un-earthly friendly people and a hell of alot of dust.

Music anxiety quickly filled us up and we entered Centeroo & addictively began seeing great band after great band after...you guessed it, great band. Eminem, Florence & the Machine, Ray, Amos Lee, Grace Potter & the Nocturnals, School of Seven Bells, Mumford & Sons, Robert Plant with Patty Griffin, Atmosphere, Scissor Sisters, G. Love, Widespread Panic and more! We got lost once, learned alot about one another, walked alot, bathed with jugs of water, used two boxes of baby wipes, cuddled, laughed, reflected, sweated uncontrollably, threw up, drank more, held hands, sang, danced...(well, I danced), borrowed, shared and, perhaps most importantly, gained an incredible appreciation for the small things.

I let go of things, I jumped into the unknown, I looked fear in the face, I felt something...a deep connection not only to someone, but to everything...down to the microscopic matter that was woven together to create the most humbling experience of my life thus far.

There is so much more....more out there and more inside of me. Bonnaroo let me taste that and I am forever grateful and indebted.

Amanda, Kirsten, Sam & Amanda and Bonnaroo, THANK YOU.  

My soul is etched with magic and I only hope that next year will kick this year's ass!

Things that make you go Hmmmm.

Per the usual...I was squatting over the toilet in the ladies room thinking about things that perplex me. Here is a list of just a few I came up with. (I just LOVE lists....don't you??)

1. Large gaps in bathroom stalls that are supposed to PROTECT you from being seen, recognized or embarrassed when doing your personal business. Why have walls at all if the gaps are so big you can practically stick your arm through to hand your co-worker a piece of one-ply?

2. Instructions on Shampoo. (i.e. Use a dime sized amount) Does that work for everyone or just babies or bald men?

3. Why have rules like "I" before "E" except after "C" if the rule doesn't apply 100% of the time?

Care to read more perplexing things? The following website has a pretty good list.

http://www.dreamhaven.org/~data/humor/questions.html

What makes YOU (meaning the 5 or 6 of you that actually read this blog, a.k.a my diehard fans!) go hmmmm?

Mirage of reach.

What has become of this…, a slow entangled web of everything and nothing bound together by fear, comfort and craving. One novel with two different endings, penned in full by one…and created in real time by the other. A yearning for explosion but an admission of defeat…Hope washes away with the drop of each tear, an unspoken knowing neither will address. A question of your desire and a realization of mine. A need powered by passion, yet swallowed up in pride. A distance forms…confidence a mere mirage in memory, still…very much, leaving me thirsty.

I need a doctor...

I suppose Jack Johnson designed the phrase..."Sitting, Waiting, Wishing..."

Today, I despise you Mr. Johnson. Because, well...Sitting, Waiting and Wishing kinda sucks. The only calories I'm burning take place when I cannot resist unlocking my phone or turning the light on to see if I've received a new text. Soon, I'm afraid...my left pointer finger might get a blister from doing exactly this, alot of times over and over, in the equivalent of about 3.2 seconds. Who the hell am I? When did I become "THAT girl"...????

Could you not have said something like..."Frolicking, Moving Forward and Creating Your Own Destiny? (a.k.a NOT being a bum, making excuses, feeling sorry for yourself & wishing for crap out of your control!) That may have sent a different message Jack..., just sayin'.

Between hormones, mixed emotions about everything and everyone, feeling a twinkle of delight when dabbling in danger and the great fear of the unknown or what lives in there, I'm detecting a slight case of crazy coming on!~!~!~! I hear crazy people are more colorful though..., maybe I'll start to glow in the dark. coooool!

I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR. But....in the meantime, I will find lyrical antibiotics for all of the disease in my head.

Apocol-OOPS!

Today is 2 days after the earth was supposed to endure massive earthquakes, disaster, chaos and "worthy" people were supposed to dissapear or float into heaven in the rapture, predicted by Harold Cummings, the ex engineer who installs biblical revelation-esk fear into the masses and makes mathematical mistakes about which year the world will end and falsely predicts these "second comings" like it's in the main objective in his resume.

Guess what old fart?....We're still here. Oh, and p.s., so are you.

I only wish I had come up with "Apocol-OOPS" on my own...but the winner of this phrase goes to some person I don't know on some blog I can't remember the name of that made me laugh. You go Mister! That is some funny stuff...and quite appropriate.

For some of us, the upside of this Rapture stuff was a reason to drink a lot, disobey rules, not do any laundry, brush off chores or family, not brush your teeth or shower, make pot cake (cause you were out of brownie mix) and laugh watching Justin Timberlake and Lady Gaga's SNL skits until nearly peeing,  or just be completely careless/wreckless in nature. I mean, if we were gonna leave the earth anyway...what's the point in being responsible?!!?

The down side -- is the fact that we did all that stupid stuff and nothing even remotely profound happened.....and then Monday comes and we all have to go back to our boring repetative low paying jobs and are kicking ourselves because the pants we're wearing has last week's coffee stain still on them.

So, Macho Man Randy Savage swiftly, , stepped in and acted as Jesus' doppleganger & died...,, so none of us had to.

Here is a little collage of things that either the actual Rapture or Macho Man should have taken with them. There are alot more, but these came to mind first:

Boregasm!

Life/Work has been busy kicking my ass lately. Here are a few things you've missed by my absense from blogging:

• I've worked 102 Hours in two weeks.
• I received a $150 crosswalk ticket for not stopping for an invisible pedestrian and no flashing light.
• I'm pet sitting for some friends whose dog is so big I could ride horseback.
• My A/C in my car is still broken and I am melted like an icecube on a stove, by the time I'm home.
• I've grown addicted to the E.T. song by Katy Perry
• I've tripped in front of others 4 times.

Other than that...Now I'm just waiting on the rapture to come on May 21st. I'm hoping I'll have enough time standing in line to drink a martini or two and relax.

Standby....

The Lambs Have Stopped Screaming.

***Update*** I have recently discovered that this article was written in 2007...but the joy still applies.

and Jodie is out of the closet...., finally (well, apparently 4 years ago!) Hoorah, Hoorah! ::waves rainbow flag::

I came to love and appreciate Jodie Foster in the 1991 masterpiece, "Silence of the Lambs". I'm not sure I loved it as much as I do today, IN 1991...because I was six. And...well, I'm not sure I was as twisted yet at six, as I was at 13...or 18...or 21 or now, at 26. I'm also not sure I understood the beauty of the message, the light that shined in her character in all of that darkness or the true meaning of what it's like to forever hear the lambs screaming....like I do now. Ahhhh, Clarice Starling, how I love thee. I always agreed with Hannibal Lecter that "The world is more interesting with you in it."

Although it's been known for years and years that she was a lesbian...she has always been very private and not disclosed any information about her sexuality. As you will read in the following link, she recieved an award at a Women in Entertainment Breakfast, where she publically, for the first time, acknowledged and thanked her partner of 14 years, which is a long lifetime in calculation. (Lesbian math = x amount of years together times 7, bringing her and Cydney to a whopping 98 years together!) 

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-501256/Jodie-Foster-comes-emotional-tribute-girlfriend-14-years.html

Regardless if the reason for doing so was because it was just time, for personal reasons or whether Lady Gaga's "born this way", inspired her to raise her paws up and come out of that glass closet and tell us all what we already knew....I am sure glad she did. May you help and inspire others to do the same. You GO girl.

Pedicures: The shame, the gain and the suprises!

So....for weeks life, laziness and financial strain has kept my poor little tootsies from being brought back to perfection from the depths of crocodile impersonation. Today, thanks to a recent auto part return & $75 back in my checking account,  that all changes!

Of course, if you know me at all..you know by now that Im a hippie and I hate to shave my legs. You probably also know that shaving your legs is sort of essential when some stranger is going to be rubbing them. My poor pedicure lady. Wah Wah. I mean...to me, a few days of growth is nothing...but to a stranger it must feel like Sasquatch, or however u spell fancy beast. Yikes. In total embarrassment fashion, I allowed my conscience and happy nails, (the salon) to win and went ahead with the $18 up-sale. Cha~ching!

Now, dont get me wrong...there is alot in it for me. Extra rubbing, massage, peppermint foot splooge, feet that feel like a babys butt that all drag queens envy and less of a guilty gross feeling inside for making this woman service my reptiles.

All in all...the extra currency was well worth it! My muscles in my calves are loose as a goose, my toes are a sparkling and I wont complain day in and day out about my how bad they are anymore.

I walk away with a spontaneous essentially free pedicure, she surprises me with a toe crack and the pedi lady gets paid extra. Everyone goes home happy!

I just have to try to remember not to walk in requesting a pedi after a month of letting my vines grow next time.

Cerebrum No No's.

Dear Cerebrum...or whoever controls my memory: Please do a better job or talk to whoever controls my cravings and let them know I need some Ginkoba Biloba to enhance you. In the past month I've misplaced or lost my cell phone, my ID and Debit card on numerous un-countable occasions, my super prettiful hair flower accessory, my spare phone charger and managed to forget to zip my zipper on my pants when going out AND coming to work...only to realize later (and often when IN the bathroom already) that I have bright neon purple or lace panties on, just collecting some fresh air for the whole world to see!

By the way, you also don't have a very good sense of humor and can, to the contrary, be very cruel...Especially because you only allow me to notice things like my goodies hanging out after nearly an entire day at work....,, or my need for money and proof of alcohol drinking age AFTER I drive two hours to Orlando or am walking out the door for a much needed pedicure and brunch date.

It is kindly requested that you take it a little easy on me from now on and cut me a break. After all, Americans work the hardest and get paid the least out of any other country, didn't you know?!!?

I recently have been trying to remind myself to check for everything before I leave but.... I FORGET THAT I'M FORGETFUL!!! Talk about being set up for failure. ha! Perhaps I should invent a necklace that holds my id and debit card and looks ever so trendy or an alarm for my zipper that recites "Peek-A-Boo" when I clasp the button?!!?

*A Few Things I Try NEVER to Forget*

.To say thank you.

.To smile at strangers.

.To say bless you when someone sneezes.

.To be kind.

.To not let insignificant things frustrate me.

.To not judge others.

.To listen.

.To be humble.

.To give.

.To be honest.

.To not be selfish.

.To learn.

.To drink water.

.To take responsibility.

.To stand up for what I believe in.

.To not rush.

.To never call names.

.To communicate.

.To share.

.To jouney.

.To embrace.

.To love.

Alas, in honor of my zipper FAIL! today...and of Gary Busey being Fired on Celebrity Apprentice...here is a song that always makes me smile and forget that it's not about me. Wink, wink.

If you just realize what I just realized.

A friend once told me that once I turned 25, I would discover, realize and come to terms with alot of things in life. Here are 25...that I have since determined she is right about:

1.  I'm addicted to the internet.

2.  I hate socks.

3.  I do not think mainstream comedy is funny.

4.  I regret one of my tattoos.

5.  I have a very hard time letting go of my past or some of the people or decisions in it.

6.  I like it to be close to freezing when I sleep.

7.  Sometimes love is not enough.

8.  I can be really lazy, all the while, complaining about my beer belly or unfolded laundry.

9.  Quality of friends is way more important to me than quanitity of drinking buddies.

10. Everything reminds me of a song I've heard or know or want to hear.

11.  I still want to lay in a tub full of flour because of sticking my hand in flour when I was a child & loving how it felt.

12.  There is always someone who has it worse.

13.  I follow other cars too closely.

14.  I'm obsessive about silly things like the shower curtain being open when not in use or how something looks when I write it down.

15.  Everyone has a little wicked in their righteous.

16.  I have the ability to explode completely & feel everything or feel nothing at all. I can't choose which occurs at any given time.

17. I like the smell of weird/gross things, like armpits, belly button lint and ear cheese.

18.  I have a want and need to travel the world, even if only in death.

19. I seriously do not like lizards or loose hair.

20. I have a superstition about crossing my silverware while eating.

21. I like girls. Alot.

22. I like to swim naked.

23. I can cry watching movies more than I can cry in real life.

24. I'm learning to really like being home alone.

25. I'm as abnormal as they come, often wanting to be just as normal as they don't. 

Old Shadows...

I figure on the days that I have nothing awesome or witty to say, why not post something I've written and posted elsewhere/pre-blog? I mean...atleast then it will be here, as well, if Facebook turns into the anti-christ and steals my soul or my identity, right?!!? I've got to eventually post my Myspace writings/poems/etc. elsewhere before they turn into dinasaur dust and fall off the edge of cyber space. Here's a start:

Shadows follow,, and seem to reach out...
Dark distant reminders of fear and doubt.
Strangers they seem as they hold you so close...
Covering truth to what matters the most.

Shadows remain,, no matter the day...
Contantly observing, with nothing to say.
Cold in the dark and warm in the light...
Unbiast to judgment of whats wrong or right.

Shadows linger,, and I start to see...
They are forever imprisoned to not be free.
Extending my hand,, I reach for this pawn...
It is only then that the shadows are gone.

 and....the end.

Beam Me Up, Scotty!

Human emotion is overrated...or hormones are viciously evil.

I can't imagine that at home, on my planet, people get upset when you don't invite them every single place you go or freak out in traffic when flying their space cars. There is no existence of jealousy, greed or worry of what others think. There is no automatic hatred for slow elevators or the people clogging them up, who can't walk up a single flight of stairs...which inevitably causes you to want to shoot them in the face with a tomato bazooka. !POW, SPLAT, HAHA!

In my galactic universe....people share, they care, they are not judged, they live to embrace and conquer any kung-fu that the Matrix brings on. and yes,, sometimes there is a glitch. Sometimes we have to put the spaceship trip on hold for maintenance. Sometimes, there is a pill you can take or a drink you can drink or a feeling you can feel or a hand you can hold or an ambiance you can seize. and sometimes...,,, you just have to be broke down for awhile.

I was feeling rather vehement about some trivial human garbage this a.m., which luckily only lasted about 5 minutes. Still...in those 300 seconds of weakness, I felt helpless and not in control. Often when I have this problem....I try and close my eyes and think of some cartoon-like, completely ridiculous graphic (that I, of course, can create with paint) to smash or abolish such petty emotion and bring peace back to my core.

Today....this is what it took: A 1,000 lb. Acme/Wile E. Coyote/RoadRunner type weight that I can't think of the proper name for (nor does Google help me find)....but it did the trick for now.

Sigh....,so....until Scotty beams me up...., (which I hope is soon!)....my random and terrible artwork will have to suffice.

Life is like a box of rubber bands?!!?!?

As I am sitting here bored, watching the clock numerically climb, making conversation with my giraffe eraser, making my skeleton man do back bends and yoga poses on top of my computer speaker and, most importantly, constructing a rubber band ball...I'm also thinking. I'm thinking that things in life sometimes ARE like a rubber bands. Choices we make, actions we take, pain we cause and the innocent enjoyment we sometimes give others by doing nothing at all but being present.

Sometimes we snap (wah-psshh!), sometimes we break, sometimes we are s  t  r  e  t  c  h  e  d  to our limits or ignored, overlooked and under appreciated in a drawer full of others that seem just like us. However, if you look close enough, each of us is different and unique, whether by shape or size, flexibility, strength, color, stubbornness, the level of ability to bounce back (Boing!),, all the while all being capable of the same fate or destiny. Change,, constant change in form...inevitably until our death.

Who knows?!!? Maybe when I seriously popped myself in the face a few moments ago while constructing this boredom curing treasure, I hit myself in the head a little too hard....,, or maybe being random and crazy actually equates to having a solid point or unearthly answer to what in the hell we are all doing here?!!?!?  

Either way...., I've managed to eat up 15 minutes of my day without gaining a pound, write a new blog and almost draw blood from my cheek!! Yeah baby!!!!

Oh...didn't believe me about the giraffe and the skeleton man? Check this ish out!

Hello 5p.m.!!!! I'm bouncin'!

Attack! Germs, Intoxicated Missions & Boob Sploog.

I'm officially infected with Germs! Tiny little mucus monsters that hate me and have rented a mansion in my immune system to party in.

This party isn't fun,, at all. I need to show these little bastards how to play.

My hearing is gone and my head feels like it might just explode at any moment. All I can taste is all the debauchery I got myself into this past weekend. Fun, random and full of surprises...nonetheless.

It all began as a random venture to Orlando with my fav to visit an old friend, sitting in traffic for what seemed like eternity, trying to spot hot girls and find our anthem on the ipod for the weekend, realizing just when I needed it and only after reaching my destination...that I had left my ID and debit card two hours away at home. Sheer terror at first. Calm "what the hell else can I do" after that. I eventually gave in to just going with life's little trickery...or my forgetful memory. So, I started dancing like a maniac, drinking like a fish, sneaking into a club, laughing until close to throwing up, waking up looking like Medusa, eating delicious salad bar and free ice cream, a quicker drive back with depressing music, more drinks for the fish, awful ybor clubs where everyone had "X's" on their hands and the music was what I hear in my nightmares, brunch with the gays, a sudden & unexpected mission, singing Adele to the top of my lungs, sploog from a stress ball shaped like a boob exploding EVERYWHERE in the car and ending up in my hair and all down my back EWWwwwWWWW!, taking my clothes off in a McDonalds bathroom (that happened to be connected to a police station) and frantically washing the Ooz away, drying off under the hand dryer, going to a crawfish festival, saying random douchebag things to strangers, georgies, taco bus, losing my phone, catching the plague, calling off work, completing my mission (twice), watching movies about teeth in vaginas, connecting, disconnecting, uncontrollable laughs, chai, a walk, an attempted nap, a cab ride home and alot of reflection and nyquil that made me really high.

Needless to say, It was memorable, reckless, fun, stressful, journey loving goodness. All squeezed in to 80 hours of the 229,428 and counting that I've been breathing so far.

and even though all of that invited germs to come live inside me, or asked for this invisible elephant to sit on my chest...I'm thankful. Thankful that there are people out there who are embracing the ups and downs, living out loud and putting up with my crazy ass. Not to mention, loving me anyway.

*If I can promise nothing else in this life, it is that I will forever return that gift to those who will accept it.*

Now, this mucus queen (that's me) is off to listen to some lyrical vitamins and hope that the I can hear it through all the icky ca ca that is infecting my sinuses and the size of my head.

::Wanna know how long YOU have been alive? ~ Click the link below::

http://www.thepcmanwebsite.com/media/aff_games/aff_age.shtml

Im in Miami b*tch!

Well...not anymore. Now, I'm actually on a train headed back to the city I call home from the city of music festivals, not sleeping, drinking pitchers of bud light at hooters while observing the diverse cultural groups from the balcony, gay clubs with way too many rooms, cab drivers who get lost, salsa dancing with random women, going to irish bars alone, meeting random people and animal cops, discovering phobias, deep conversation, hysteric laughter until your stomach hurts, wonderful eye candy and my favorite peruvians.

And....I managed to walk away with new perspective, an appreciation of travel and experience, a deeper understanding and gratitude for  the quality of friends I have, a serious need to learn spanish, a slight hangover and a chunk of flesh missing from my elbow.

I'm truly blessed. Except maybe for almost missing the train, the a/c level being set on antarctic or the captivety of having to return to normalcy, reality or corporate america.

And so the world turns,, the train rattles along, a baby cries, my thoughts spin, my neighbor sleeps, my ipod plays my favorite tunes on my "train" playlist and I write, feel and cradle the unknown, reflecting and projecting...love in all forms.



Accidental Signature?

I was just messing around with paint and came up with this. I kind of really like it. ;-)

*Maybe it can be like my signature or something>?*

Happy Friday. I'm off to catch a train to Miami in an hour!



Creatures inside me.

So, yesterday I woke up with this minimal back pain that has amplified its power (to the power of hercules/goliath) today. I thought it was just a pulled muscle or pinched nerve on my lower right side at first, but am now starting to consider that it might be something more extreme. (Kidney stone, UTI, Ovarian cist, some powerful ghost of girlfriend's past...stabbing my organs to smithereens?!?!) It hurts to breath in too deep, bend over, stretch and laugh. I've been on the verge of wanting to cry like a baby in the fetal position and kill someone with a staple remover all at once today. On second thought, being murdered with a staple remover might feel better.

Soooo, I'm downing an ocean of Dasani (which I'm not even convinced is actually water, cause it sounds like soda when you open it and tastes a little like metal), taking cranberry pills, stretching the muscle and praying to my ex girlfriends and begging their forgiveness in exchange for a single pain free moment. To make matters even worse, I have peed like 728 times today and my arm twitch is also back. Havn't I suffered enough?!!!?

Maybe this is the universe telling me that I need to go to the doctor for once or get a primary physician and stop using the E.R. as a way to avoid a co-pay. Maybe after feeling so enlightened yesterday, I needed to be beaten down to a pulp or feel like I got jumped by a gang of prison inmates with pillowcases full of soap in order to appreciate the value of human health, life and understand what real suffering is. Or, maybe I was abducted by aliens and impregnated with a mechanic alien baby in the kidney with the hopes of fixing me being able to hold my pee for days or not require any form of  liquid during the day. Maybe this will turn out to be a reenactment of one my favorite scenes of Space Balls!?!?! How cool would that be?!?! Watch this video! I love it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aVZUVeMtYXc

Or....maybe I just really pissed off some creature bacteria and he is using a lightning bolt knife to slowly kill me...one little pain/aggrevation after another. He sure is good at his job. Maybe he needs a raise.

WARNING: The following may not be suitable to some viewers. Viewer discretion is advised.

Okay, I realize that this wasn't very funny or interesting at all...but I can't focus okay. Give a girl a break. ~ I hear my bed and a heating pad calling! uggggghhhh.

Mission R cubed.

When I think of  the phrase "R & R"...alot of different alliterations pop in my head (and we KNOW how much I heart alliterations!):

Rest. * Relaxation. * Railroad tracks. *

Rachel Ray. *

Reading Railroad. (especially with that catchy little tune).  *

Recycling. * Reusing. * Reducing. *

Roller Rink. * Random Repairs. * Rallied Revolution. *

Reverends. * Racoons. * Renaissance Rifles. *

Robbery Ransoms. * Relative Resemblance. *

Red Rum. (also known as Murder in that scary movie) *

Renegade Riders. * Romantic Rendezvous. *

Etcetera, Etc., Etc.

I'm sure you get the picture, although tons more completely unplanned "R" words are swirling in my mind right now...and could go on and on...but I want to try not bore you into a coma and be forced to deal with paperwork on whether or not to "Resuscitate" you. (ha! I tricked you and got another one in!).

Okay...for serious now....In harmony with Spring arriving this week, the vernal equinox being yesterday, my twitch finally being gone and a real need for a less cloudy purpose and brighter disposition in my life...I've decided that there are 3 "R" words that are crucial for all of us this season. And I'm going on a mission...a spaceship trip I'm officially calling "Mission R cubed". Mission:

 ~ Rebirth * Renewal * Regrowth ~

BLASTOFF! Spring and "springtime" refer to the season, and broadly to ideas of rebirth, renewal and regrowth. It's the time where the weather gets nice, you want to go outside, lay in the grass or to the beach again...you start to feel all giddy and lovey inside, the creative in you starts to bloom again and you get to wear your favorite shorts and tank top (after you lint roll all the cat hair and dust off). Say goodbye to the dark, cold, empty, deadness that was recently the outside of your house and the inside of you. There is something alive in the air again kids...and,, it also lives in you! Now, don't pretend I'm the only one who feels it and go messing up my positive world or I might have to hit you over the head with a gerber daisy. Just Sayin.

Nevertheless....embrace "R" Cubed! Join my mission...or create your own~!

Something I found for inspiration:

My version:

Hey! don't be hatin'. It's paint and I created it in, like, 1 minute. So take that!

May the force be with you. 

Rocks are hard.

I'm feeling much more sane than I was in the last post, although not completely (as I'm not sure that complete sanity looks good on me). I almost considered buying myself a straight jacket but they don't come in black or purple...and white is not the color my pasty self should be wearing EVAH!...regardless of when Labor Day is.

My life and world lately has felt like a roller coaster it's in a frying pan on high heat right before being put in the blender and set to puree. Motivation and insipriation being the seasoning right in there with it. Oh, and add a dash of anxiety, non-stop stress induced arm twitching, tears and heart organ juice. Yum! *This is making me hungry*

What's that famous saying?...oh yes..."I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place". Which in my head, looks something like this:



This phrase has always baffled the logical scientist in me, quite honestly. Don't you just pick up the rock and chuck it at the hard thing & break the rock....and walk the other way? Or use the rock as leverage to push the hard place out of the way? Jump over the rock? I mean, how big is it? I have no idea. I think the walls are the tough part...not what is on the other side, right?!!!? Whichever the answer, I'm still stuck, the shoe still fits and I figure if I'm going to be here awhile...why not search, in the meantime, for some beauty in between the walls?!?! So, that is what I'm trying.

::continues search::
In light of recent tragic world events (and no...not MY world...but the actual world, jeesh, I'm not an ego maniac!) such as the devestation in Japan, the nuclear crisis, massive gas fires in Minneapolis, Over 6,000 deaths from the Tsunami, the protests in Wisconsin, the unrest in Libya....(the list goes on and on) I'm trying to find  relief and thankfulness in the small things. The things so easily clouded with everyday stresses and personal speed bumps that in the end...in the bigger picture are not so detrimental in comparison. Being surrounded by the inevitable drama and chaos that human emotion eats for lunch is so incredibly minuscule in contrast. I'm almost ashamed of myself.

So...dear in between place...thank you, I'm starting to get it & it's not so bad in here. I'll glady live next to a rock and neighbor a hard place if it means I will postpone a kind of death by living, by losing, by gaining, by loving, by allowing, by giving, by receiving, by feeling. By truly living. I'll poke holes in these walls if I have to to let some sunshine in but I will not turn away the embrace, of beauty in the breakdown.

::enter acknowledgment to Anais Nin and Imogen Heap for a look through their eyes::

Pity Party.

In little to no words, this = how I feel today.



Aggrevation Avenue.

On today's episode of "Will Amanda fail miserably writing or getting people to read her blog" I'd like to discuss/vent a few small examples of things that drive me down aggrevation avenue. You know where I'm talking about...you've been there and you sure as heck never needed GPS to reach that destination. (Although often on the way to somewhere else, USING your GPS, following the directions of a sweet talking non human who keeps getting you lost....you often reach Aggrevation Avenue by accident.)

1. The commonly mis-used word "Fine". ~ Someone you know has been having a hard time with things lately so out of the goodness or your blood pumping organ you ask how they are doing with problem X in their lives. Now, you know this person well and they have admitted to feeling less than extremely happy lately, to say the least. With all genuine concern and care, you ask, anticipating a real answer that will spark conversation or the need to throw in your two cents or best possible advice giving. Instead, you get this response: "I'm FINE, as always!".
::BIG DEEEEEEP SIGH, cause you know that's a big fat lie::
You can't say anything. You can't dooooo anything. You can't pass them a dictionary and say...you should really read up on your definitions or define the word fine because you are using that word all sorts of wrong! You are now stuck knowing that Fine doesnt actually mean fine at all, forever. dumb, dumb, dumb
and...so begins your drive....

2. Chin Hairs. ~ What could be worse than black hairs growing like weeds from your face, nobody telling you they are there, and realizing that by the time that you find one on the middle of your chin hanging 4 inches long, you are at work and have no tweezers to rip it out and have had conversations with the atleast 5 people in the last 24 hours, one of which you like and who you thought was staring at your hot lips, imagining her say they resembled Angelina Jolie's or LL Cool J eating a peach. Right! Nothing is worse. Oh, except for trying to pick it out for 2 hours with your half bitten fingernails and a co-worker walking by wondering why your face is all distorted and your tongue is hanging out.
::Yes, I fell victim to a chin hair :: da na, da na, da na, da na
For your amusement, this is me today, complete with Snookie bump and all. (in case you didn't recognize the monster on my chin):

and...you are now speeding down aggrevation avenue, with no seat belt and hot coffee in your lap.

3. The "Reply All" email button. ~ After numerous re-printing of a document because spellcheck isn't picking up misspelled words in CAPS, you kindly write this overly detailed email to your not so computer literate co-workers, with step by step directions explaining how you just discovered how to fix the problem,, and also how you think it would be helpful and nix extra work if you all use it in the future, let me know if you have any questions, thank you, thank you, etc. etc. Then, you recieve a new email response (knowing someone won't understand and need your help & that will make you feel special) when one of your co-workers attempts to play comedian for the day or just be plain cruel and has so sweetly Replied To All, letting you know that you spelled "Grammar" wrong.  You've GOT to be kidding me!

CRASH, bAm, BoOm! *%&%^#*^*&+=^*! You've now reached aggravation avenue and hit the pissed off tree. Do not pass GO, do not collect $200.

Allegorical Tornados!

Auntie Em knew they were dangerous. Dorothy and Toto talked about it too! We can't avoid them though, unfortunately. Sometimes we do not have enough time, enough understanding, enough shelter to avoid the inevitable monsters!

Tornados are not just of the earth though boys and girls. We all have experienced tornados of emotion that sweep in, ever so suddenly, terrorizing all reason, choice and answer...forcing us to hide in the basements of our securities, behind walls, which have previously been stript of light and padlocked with fear....trapping us from what we need the most.  ::forgive my poor illustration.::

These mo-fo's are strong too! Like whoa. These sentiment monsters are more powerful than the poltergeist in your t.v. that can suck in innocent toe-haired children, Willow Smith whipping her hair back and forth or the vacuum cleaner on late night infomercials that can hold a bowling ball. They also effect everyone around you and you have no control to stop it. Kinda of a crappy deal huh? You can just be walking by someone at the grocery store and swoosh, you've sucked them in to your storm. Co-workers, swoosh! Friends, Swoosh! Lovers, Swoosh! Your obnoxious cat and the litter box, Swoosh! Before you know it, everyone you care about has been sucked inside the dismantling of your life and covered in poop.  ::insert bad illustration of poop::

::waits for you to get over the shock of the poop illustration:: So....what will we choose to do in this situation? Run for cover? Hide in the basement? Face this F*#ker unforeseen event head on, equipped with knowledge, care, perhaps a cool armored chest plate and one high powered Black & Decker blower?

I don't know about you but....I refuse to become some casualty.