My Tilly Poo....

Tilly 


Isn't she cute?

Medicine Theory

Ok, first of all I have to apologize if this blog doesn't make sense, it is way too late and I'm exhausted, but I feel compelled to prop my eyeballs open and write this out. I have been talking to a young man, yes young, (thank me later Chris) about people and the crazy things we do to each other. He is an aspiring author trying to find his niche; I believe he will find it, although I think he's struggling right now. Ok, back to my original thought process, if there is such a thing with me tonight, I reviewed my medicine theory tonight. For those of you who don't know the medicine theory here goes.

*sigh*
The medicine theory is that people use other people for medicine when getting over a relationship and or any other trauma in their lives. A person will grasp onto someone who makes them feel whole, a little less lonely, and can spend time with them. The lock themselves into this person and use them as medicine while they are healing themselves off of their previous relationship. Once they have healed from the pain all too often they realise the person they are with, their "medicine" is just that and nothing more. They realise that they don't have much in common with them and are not as in drop dead love as what they once though. Hence, they are healed and ready to move on. I know way too many people who have married their medicine only to wish that they hadn't (certain nurses at my work included) :).

Lesson:
Don't marry your medicine. Medicine is fine to a certain extent. Don't use people, don't play with their emotions. You wouldn't want yours played with.

A co-worker told me today that she thought I wouldn't have any problem getting a man, that I was a "hottie". A laughable term, because first and foremost I DO NOT consider myself any way shape or form hottielike. While there are times when I would love a good roll in the hay with no strings attached that's not my ultimate goal. The end product I want is someone who won't mind it when I get old and get a granny gut and make cobblers and want to drink tea out on the back porch with the kids. I want someone who won't mind when I'm six months pregnant puking up my guts all over my dinner plate. I want someone I can still laugh, fight, debate, and argue with until I'm blue in the freakin face and still go to bed and snuggle with them an hour later. I don't want medicine. I won't settle for medicine.

I forget what I wanted to say, it's late and I'm tired, so.. sue me.

Have you ever felt really connected with someone, even though you haven't known them for very long? I'm not talking about sexual stuff, although that's always nice. I'm talking about basic likes, dislikes, things you say, do, stuff like that connected. That is really a rare thing nowdays, at least for me. I found myself sharing some intimate details the other day with a person before I even thought about it. It was like I was talking to someone I had known forever and trusted with the knowledge of possibly embarrassing information. I thought about if afterwards and realised I had told these things because I felt a connection and wanted this person to know who I was, without reservation. Thinking back, how many people can you honestly say you share that with?

Sad Sad little girl

Sitting here, whining about things I can't control. Wishing I could change the way things are. Wishing I could make things good. Needing to talk it all out. Having no one to talk it all out too. Jeez.. so anyway.. I'll shut up.. and maybe try and post something mildly interesting or at least factual.


Things You May or May Not know about me:

My favorite flowers are stargazer lillies
My first "boyfriend" was Mark something or other, in 7th grade. It lasted a week
Coconut Rum is my favorite Liquor
I worry that I'm becoming caloused and jaded
I long to be held.
I talk in my sleep.
I laugh, scream and giggle in my sleep.
I long to feel drop dead heart stopping love
I have been proposed to three times.
I have never had any broken bones.
I had diarrhea in second grade and crapped my pants.
My hair was white/blonde until I was about five.
I love it when a man sings to me.
When I see my kids after their being gone for the weekend, my heart bursts with joy and how much I missed them.
I think I still have Sunny's Lisa Loeb tape after 10 years... actually I think Jamie has it now.
I have always been attracted to men with dark hair, odd I married a red head.
I have had sex in some strange places.
I hope to have sex in ever more strange places.
The beginning of a good song gets me going.
Music is my favorite expression.
I sing to whomever is in my bed while they are asleep, soflty.. not all the time mind you, but when I'm filled with love.
I suffered from depression for most of my early twenties.
I do not like reality shows.
I can't swim worth a flip.
I love rollercoasters.
My favorite foods would have to be Italian or Mexican.
I love to cook.
I love sun ripened tomatoes, fresh from the garden. Just go out, pick it off the vine, wipe it off and take a bite. Even better if you have salt.
I have feared for my saftey in the presence of people I loved.
I would like to have a total of four children before childbearing ceases.
I love to travel and want to go all over the world
I have played with an oujia board.... BY MYSELF!
I have eaten edible panties.
I had my nipple and my bellybutton pierced.
I have two tattoos. One of them is the same tat my bestest friend in the whole wide world has.
I often doubt the strength of my love.
I love a clean house.
A british accent turns me on.
It doesn't take much to turn me on.
I gave a black eye to a much larger older guy when I was 14.
I body slammed Jamie in front of all his friends for picking on me.
I have, as an adult, been picked up and carried like a sack of potatoes.
I have porn on my computer.
I can't wait until I have nieces or nephews.
I would love to know martial arts.
I love kids and a babies laugh, a big belly laugh just makes my heart laugh.
I miss having someone to share little things with, but if I had someone.. I probably wouldn't be blogging.
and finally... I love to dance, only not at a club, or bar, but at home...



You know.. I have a ton more, but I'm just trying to forget that I'm alone and lonely tonight. I think its bedtime. Thanks Outburst for the blog idea. I appreciate it and hope you don't mind I "borrowed" from you.

Quiet Nights

Sitting beside him in the dark. I dangle my feet off the roof, listening to the sounds coming from the garage. He sits beside me, the wind ruffling his blonde curls. Neither of us know that in five years he will be gone. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He's so handsome I think. He sees me looking, takes a drag of his cigarette, and smiles at me. He will never see me as anything but a friend. I know that. I see him as a pretty good friend myself. We talk for a while. I look at the sky. Dark blue with a brilliant moon glowing in the sky, almost drowning out all of the stars. He takes one last drag of his cigarette, puts it out on the shingle, hops down onto the heating air unit and reaches his hand out to help me down. That weekend was the very last weekend I saw him. He went back to Illinois. He was killed in a motorcycle accident a few years later.
skip foward a few years

We sit on my porch. Both of us close but not touching. We look at the sky. I comment on how pretty it is. Stars everywhere. It's summertime and the dark has brought some relief from the heat. He talks about things. Nothing really personal, just goes on and on about this and that, using comedy to cover everything. What a good guy I think. Too good for me, I think. He has plans, motovation. I wonder if he'll ever hold my hand? He doesn't. Not this night, and not for many others. He's such a gentleman, I think. I am wrong, in the end. He wasn't the gentle good guy that I had hoped for.
a few more years

We are sitting in our bedroom. The lights and sounds come into our room from the highway below us. I haven't gotten curtains on the windows yet. I feel exposed. I am exposed. My heart is aching and my head is pounding from keeping tears and emotion inside. I ask questions he will not answer. I've learned things I cannot fathom. I am beginning to wear the color off of my rose colored glasses and am learning that things were never as I had thought they were. I feel shattered and lied to. I leave the apartment, walking slowly down the stairs, hoping he will come out to me. He doesn't. I walk down the walk and sit on the steps. Tears run down my cheeks as I watch the occassional car pass by. I look up to the sky. I can't see the stars the way I could back home. There is too much smog in the city. I wait. Hoping he will come out. Please, come and make things better, I cry inside. He doesn't come. I go back upstairs. He's fast asleep. The lights and sounds are still spilling into our room from the highway. I lie down and watch the patterns on the wall. The last chapter has begun.

about a year later

It's warm. Finally. I sit on the picnic table just outside of the back door. Its slow tonight. I look down at my black shoes and adjust the ballcap on my head. A few people come out and we sit and talk. Talk about everything, about nothing. I take the last drag off of my cigarette and put it out on the seat with my shoe. I feel pretty good. Not happy, but good. You sit next to me. both of us in the same uniform. We talk. You make me feel alive. I look across at the gas station, the never ending lights of this place. It never sleeps, I have learned to love it. It's my home. A car pulls in, my headset dings.. "Welcome to Taco Bell would you like to try our grilled stuffed burrito this evening?" Time to go back to work. You wink at me. I smile.

move foward a tad

I sit on your porch. The lightening bugs flying everywhere in the summer dusk. The row of apartments across from yours are quiet. You come out and join me. You put your arm around my shoulder and tell me you wish you could make everything all right. Nothing is alright. I want to cry, to scream, to bury my head under the covers and make all the madness go away. I have made a very crucial decision. One I had to make alone. I sit on your porch, knowing that a part of me is dying. I look over at you. I know you can see me hurting. I know you wish you could help. I wish you hadn't been so afraid. So selfish. Instead of saying this I look at you and say, "wanna go get some icecream?"

Almost there

We lie on my trampoline. Both of us content looking up at the bright stars making their patterns across the night sky. I feel happy. You turn on your side and look at me. We talk and laugh. Time has slid by so fast I forget the years that have passed since we last laid talking like this. You are the same. A little older, a little more gray, but the same. I feel different, so different, like I'm not even the same girl. A shell. You say I'm the same. I say you have no idea. You lean over, brush my cheek with your hand. I feel you love me. I lie back and look at the sky.

Last Night

I sat out on the porch, wishing I had a cigarette. Wishing I could take away the pain that's been etched into me. I look up at the sky. It's cold and clear. Like me, I think. Life is changing so fast. I am changing so fast. I don't know who I am anymore. I miss the past, I hate the past, I long for the past, I long for the future. I don't know. I rub my tired red eyes and sigh. Tilly comes up to me and nuzzles my leg. "It's time to go in" she's saying. I sigh, wishing once more for nicotine and stand up. "It'll all come out in the wash" as Patty used to say. I go inside and lie next to my children. Both are burning up with fever. I put my hands on each of them, wishing I could draw the infection from their bodies. I close my eyes and try to sleep.