Thank you, India.
I will often only write about my sorrows and woes, bleeding out my complaints because that is when I'm most inspired artistically. Danny suggested I attempt to write, tap into my creativity if you will, when I'm happy. Flowery words or not, I'm happy and I want the universe to know it. My agnostic, pescetarian on a good day, narcissistic, body dysmorphic self has managed to find some fleeting moments worth smiling about lately. My job is going very well, knock on wood. I actually get out of bed in the morning excited to work with my clients, cause heaven knows, every day is an adventure in the world of automobile financing. Also, I am elated about the fact that I might be getting a brand new car for my first time very soon. I have always driven used vehicles. Nice, but still used. Having a new car would be such a nice treat and I think that I deserve it. My love life can be dissected and scattered across the operating table only to be diagnosed as unconventional or complicated. Both of which I have grown to be okay with. I say "grown" because I don't think I could lead the life I live if this were ten years ago. All of the failed relationships and tribulations I have faced in my late teens and 20's truly readied me for what I consider the real world. I find contentment in sleeping alone most nights. I find contentment in going on an occasional date with a handsome stranger who is also trying to carve his path thru this life. I find contentment in companionship with my best friend. I can drag him along if I am invited to a couples outing or I can leave him behind if I am feeling like a frisky cheerleader at an away football game. So, conventional sounds so nice, but it isn't for everyone at all times. In truth, I don't know if I will ever be able to live like others and have the perfect marriage like Tim McGraw and Sandra Bullock in The Blind Side. I was good at living that lie for a while in my mid-20's but I wasn't truly happy. In fact, I wasn't even kind of happy. Joshua was so good to me but it didn't matter because if you place your happiness on someone else's shoulders you will end up miserable EVERY TIME! In closing, everyone has ups and downs. We all know that. My ups happen to be less frequent, or so it seems, and do not linger very long. But the lows make the highs so much better. "High on life, honey. High on life!" (passing thought - Shelley Long, Troop Beverly Hills). I am nervous about being too happy because I'm scared of the crash that is sure to follow. But as I have said a million times, we are not promised tomorrow. I don't want to waste a single day in this life. I embrace my happy... even if it means my writing is suffering because of it. And I know it is. Thank you, universe. Thank you, friends. Thank you, haters. And thank you, India!
quest diag-derelict-nostics
That nervousness you feel while producing the specimen needed for a drug screening when you know you haven't been drunk or on drugs (in hours) can only be compared to the feeling you get when the downtown derelict taking up residence on the street corner cat calls you with misplaced enthusiasm.
Only kidding about the drunk/drugs in hours.
tove.
I wanna keep you to myself
In a hidden place where no one else can come
Deep underground
If I can't have you
No one else can ever touch you like I used to do
And every week I will be stopping by
To tell you all about my life
My perfect life
And you'll be listening
Wishing you could keep me in your pocket
Head and heart
Too late
Beating on a better drum
Dancing right above you
Rave until my body pop
Shake it up another one
Move it all without you
Come on make my body pop
Trying to keep it together
Heart aches wall breaks
Beating on a better drum
Better off without you
(lyrics from Tove Styrke's Beating On A Better Drum)
In a hidden place where no one else can come
Deep underground
If I can't have you
No one else can ever touch you like I used to do
And every week I will be stopping by
To tell you all about my life
My perfect life
And you'll be listening
Wishing you could keep me in your pocket
Head and heart
Too late
Beating on a better drum
Dancing right above you
Rave until my body pop
Shake it up another one
Move it all without you
Come on make my body pop
Trying to keep it together
Heart aches wall breaks
Beating on a better drum
Better off without you
(lyrics from Tove Styrke's Beating On A Better Drum)
legendary.
During the first half of this year, 2013, the world lost three incomparable entertainers. The gay community is still reeling over the shock. Three headliners who had surpassed their peers and achieved success in the world of drag and female impersonation that most only dream of. I knew the names of all three of these divas since the first year I came out of the closet and had the absolute pleasure of getting to know two of them in recent years. Meeting and befriending Whitney Paige and Erica Andrews before they passed away is a treasure I will hold close to my heart my whole life. I can't even write this post without my eyes filling with tears. Their beauty was only surpassed by their big hearts and warm smiles. Both always acted like they were thrilled to see me whenever I would pass them at a nightclub or while taking the dog for a walk around the neighborhood. I wish I could have known them longer but we are given no guarantees in life and I will remain thankful for the gifts bestowed on me. Ashley Kruiz was a sweet soul also from what I have heard but I never had the pleasure of meeting her. I hope with every fiber in my being that I will get to see them take the stage again someday. A grander stage in heaven or in another life. I refuse to believe this is the end.
Keep entertaining, girls. I will be there with my dollar bills, ready to be blown away by your talents again when my number is called!
season.of.stoicism.
If I have learned nothing else from reading
all of Chelsea Handler's books I have certainly learned that regaling
others with ridiculous tales that never happened (lying) requires a
special skill set usually reserved for telemarketers or door-to-door
gently worn undergarment salesmen and can be extremely entertaining!
However, I met my match when I met Danny two years ago. He can bold face
lie to me, have me in tears and ready to sell plasma to buy back the
house we don't own, and still never crack a grin. I attribute this to
his being born without the muscles required for smiling... or a soul.
Therefore I make him color his hair red, as everyone knows redheads
don't have souls either, and call me "stepmom!"
bouffant.business.
I fear my wonderful hair days are drawing nigh. The ravages of time are swiftly taking their toll on my hairline and my pride. I lived most of my adult life as a blonde but discovered only two summers ago that I can truly shine with jet black hair. I have driven the rockstar appeal for as long as the engine will last but I know soon the fuel will be gone and I will be forced into duller conditions. My hair represents my confidence and sheer power behind the man you see. I expect to give the black bouffant business one more ride around the block before I retire her forever.
houston, we have a problem.
My thoughts are scattered tonight but they have been simmering inside my core all day. All week even. Until today I felt too broken to open the lid. I realize that perhaps I let my thoughts simmer too long as I open the lid and these words are boiling out of me without structure and concentration, making a mess all over this screen. The heat was turned to high as I was reminded tonight of a favorite verse from a song I have always loved. This lyric/quote was my senior quote in high school and has followed me since I first heard the song. "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." I had a chapter of my life closed for me today. A friendship sealed. I would walk away without a tear if I knew I had done everything I could to save it. But I'm not sure I did. I have to be so strong all the time it seems as so many people look to me to lift them up. Family, friends, and the like all look to me to be some pillar of strength, unmoved by life's constant turbulence. My melt-downs are kept few and quiet. I only expose my pain to you, my reader, and a select few individuals who could be counted on one hand. Tonight I am censored from someone's life charged with the crime of not lifting them up when they were sad, saving them when their bedrock was eroding, and not being more sensitive to their health scares. I have been kicked but never this hard. Of all of the sins I am guilty of, being an absent friend is the last one I expected to be judged on. While I can't deny guilt completely I also know I must pick myself up off the ground and move on with my life in a positive direction. I want to be happy. I insist on it. I was even taking a quiet drive this evening with soft rock music humming in the background as I made peace with my life and it's fragility. I imagined my light being snuffed out without a moment's notice and wondered if I had done all I could to leave the world a brighter one. I hoped I would die happy. Life isn't fair and often people pass out of this world in an unhappy state of mind. My soul aches to think of those wretched ones. So these were my thoughts before I received a hand-written letter on my doorstep tonight. Five pages later and I am left stunned and unable to visualize how I can move on as a friend to anyone. I have spent the week wondering who was going to save me, meanwhile, people I love will cry themselves to sleep tonight because they thought I could have done more for them.
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.
broken.
taken.too.soon.
She was my date for Christmas portraits during my junior year in high school. She fed me chicken fingers with ranch dressing every day after school when I drove her home. She was sweet and loving with every word. Far too kind for this evil world. She was taken from us too soon and I still think of her constantly.
Corie Lynne Duckett
09/07/1982
05/23/2005
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