13. maybe that is an unlucky number after all

The other day on my birthday I looked deep into the mirror and while I did not see the woman I thought I'd be by now, I still could see traces of the girl I once was. That was my gift to myself.

Where did this year go? Where have all those years gone? Time seems to be powered from a perpetual engine that runs faster & faster & faster. I miss 1975 a little bit.

I'm going to try to take it easy on me and everyone else for the next few weeks.

Happy Humpday,
azb

12. if not for the shade the sun would burn burn burn us

I used to forget to look up. I looked down most of the time, both figuratively & literally, just tryin' to make sure my feet kept me going, I guess, or hoping to find something somebody dropped, maybe. But in order to not merely survive, but also LIVE, I had to learn some different ways of looking at things.

I live on the most beautiful spot around here.
We have hills, trees, privacy, zero crime. A tricked-out awesome house (small-ish and brick with a basement studio where someone's always mixing up some mischievous musical medicine!!) And a HUGE yard! Almost every time I catch myself feeling blue or lazy or afraid or claustrophobic, I take my camera outside & take pictures. It ALWAYS makes me feel better; it feels like home. It feels like the woods.
We have squirrels, hawks, possums, birds of all kinds, and a big fat lazy yard cat who doesn't even chase the aforementioned away...

So a great big "thank you!" to whomever is responsible for the sunlight I still prefer to see from the cover of trees, or through translucent glass.

Don't forget to look up. And then, try to imagine what it would look like if you were up THERE, looking DOWN on the spot you're standing. Just try to get a different perspective every now & then, tha's all I'm sayin'...
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!!
azb

l'azalea, n'est pas?

11. like the old south, tuesday's gone with the wind

I'm off work til Monday! And I'll actually get paid as if I were there! I know it's hard for you to believe, but this will be the first paid holiday I've had in about 10 years. I guess you could count the ones when I worked for hubbie #2 as paid holidays, I got paid the same every week, and pretty much had it made there, except for smelling like fish all the time...
My vocational pursuits since leaving H2 (that's what we'll call him from now on.) have been ...ummm...chaotic. I think when I was younger, I may have been attracted to a little chaos, but now I'm just too tired for it.
It was hard, hard, hard! I can't stress how HARD it was to find a prospective employer who:
1. paid over $7/hr
2. offered benefits, any at all!
3. paid any sick days, funeral days, holidays (the days when they weren't even unlocking the door, if you WANTED to work)
4. treated employees with courtesy & respect
5. spoke in complete sentences & didn't say "shit" or "damn" while interveiwing
6. didn't seem to encourage a lot of "witnessing" on the job
and
7. didn't look at my ass before my head was even turned around good.

Sooner or later you have to pick the lesser of 2 (or 7) evils & just go to work.
Granted, yo's truly, me, myself & I, brought most of my vocational limitations on myself.
I don't have a degree. I'm one of those "some college" people on those tests. But baby, I'm proud of the some college I do have!
I've never really stayed at a job long. 5 years, tops.
I cannot tolerate malicious gossip or verbal abuse.
There are also certain background checks I don't think I'd pass...I have to stay away from some lines of work...

On my tax returns for 2003 I had w2's from 6 different jobs. I was exhausted!
Long story short, last November I started at my present job. It didn't pay what I needed (wanted) but I just had a feeling, and I took it. It's been such a blessing (if you believe in blessings, I'm still open). I have a really cool boss who's always kind to me, is smart, and gets my jokes, loves all kinds of movies, and even though he is a baptist, he NEVER witnesses to me, but we do have conversations about what's wrong with religion. I think he knows kinda where I stand there...
I pick up & take on more responsibilities pretty often, and a lot of our business is through e-mail, so I don't even really have to TALK to people much. (I never could stand working in a store, or a very public office, seeing & talking & touching all those people EVERYDAY!)
The other people there are all also kind, and everybody just minds their own business, and on downtime we can surf the net, AS LONG AS IT'S NOT PORN, so that's about the kicker for me.

The reason I tell you all this is sometime in the next 10 days or so, I'm gonna sit down with Mr. T (that's my boss) and he'll get to tell me what Mr Green (the company owner) has allotted for my raise. It better be good, or I'll have to get a second job at walmart or something.
Wish me luck & money happiness!!
I'm keeping an optimistic outlook!
love, tired,
azb

9. war torture witchhunts comics christians irish & praying for peace

Ok I feel a little better. I just went round & closed all the storm windows. It's so fuckin cold! What's the point of having double-windows if you're not gonna use em? And I hear our heat bills are gonna like quadruple this winter. Big surprise, that.
I accidentally watched part of the news again tonight. I don't read all those political & war stories on msn, but when Brian Williams is talking, I gotta listen. And I just can't believe the shit I'm hearing. When, if ever, is the u.s. allowed to use torture? It's hard for me to hear these debates.
I have so many problems with my government. I'm probably a socialist or communist at heart, and they can hang me for it if they want.
If I'd lived in Europe in the 1500's, I would have been burned at the stake, for sure.
This guy on the news even said, calmly and rationally, "Torture does NOT get the answers we need. The tortured will give whatever answer he thinks will stop the torture, but it is almost never true, or he doesn't have the information we need!" no shit!! He also said that we are not to sink the "their level" and that's what I been trying to tell everybody.

Back before we had internet, if I wanted to learn about any subject, I'd go to the local library. When my mama worked downtown, I'd sometimes walk to her office after school & hang around. She'd give me a quarter & I'd go to the drugstore & get an ice-cream-cone, or maybe go to the dimestore & buy a ring, or bubble gum, or a comic book. That town was MUCH smaller then, and all these places were within 2 itty-bitty blocks! One day in the 4th grade, I asked her if we could go to the library & fill out the necessary paperwork so I could check out my own books, like my brother & sister did? and of course, she thought that was a great idea!
I still remember the first book I checked out - Charlotte's Web. It made me cry. I was 8. From then on, if I went to Mama's office after school, I stayed at the library till 5:00. End of story.
Around the 8th grade, I noticed all those "non-fiction" sections just waiting to be ravaged.
History. Other versions of what happened.
Biographies. Not just the ones your teacher made you do a report on.
Religion. Not just Baptist. Not even just Christian.
Art. Naked abstracts and surrealism. And lots of black-n-white photos...
A few books on the inquisition & witch-hunts cauterized much of my thinking on torture AND christianity.
I learned not to talk to Mama about EVERY book I read...

This has been my number one complaint since the beginning of this war:
I have trouble accepting that we have not evolved beyond war. Beyond violence.
Now my complaints are adding up. I can't talk about them at work, where everyone is a christian-american who is against abortion and for war. I can't talk about them with most of my family members, who end up being sad that I'm going to hell, even though they agree with me about most things.
My number 2 complaint is this:
I am not being represented by my government. My only right seems to be the right to blog. And that's only because nobody reads it...
My newest complaint, numero tres:
Where the hell was the USA when our mother-fucking-forefathers-and-kinsmen, the northern irish, were killing and terrorizing each other, (are they still? who ever even cared about that?) just in the what - 70's & 80's? I'm going to educate myself on all that shit in the next few days...
We can go all over the goddam world to "protect human rights"-hahahahaha! but we can't take care of ourselves, each other, our neighbors, (MEXICO? Guatemala? anybody ever heard of those little places where nothing good is happening????)
I tried learning a little about vietnam, the war of my childhood, but it just made me sicker, sadder, and scareder. I already know more about the current war than I want to. I do NOT trust the stupid Rich White Guys In Charge to do what's best for me, or anybody I know.
I prayed for peace from the time I was 6.
I gave up.
hope it's over soon,
azb

my spritual advisor

His message is a little vague, but it's one I can live with.

8. tonight we're gonna party like it's 2029

Well, this year's already gone.
Sunday's my birthday.
Once my birthday's gone, then it's Thanksgiving, then Christmas, then it's the New Year. It all happens so quickly!
It always has, really.
Other than making me one of the "babys" in my class at school, I always liked that my birthday was in November. It's cool, the sun has that unusual slant, there's still some of the autumn-toned foilage hanging around, AND you get to be a Scorpio! What a great time of year to bring home a baby! My second baby was born in November too. And it WAS a great time of year to bring home a baby, but someone else had to bring him home for me while I was on a respirator in ICU.
I'll have to get back to you on that particular story (it's a LONG one!) later.

I must have been sort of an early Christmas present for my sister, who was almost 5-and-a-half. She always treated me like her little baby.
My brother, though, went on strike because I was not a boy! He really had it in his little 8-yr-old head that he was getting a little brother this time. He wouldn't come home from our aunt's house for a couple of days.
Needless to say, he got over it when he saw how CUTE I was!
I wonder how many more birthdays my cuteness will make me more tolerable?

I used to wonder if I'd get more presents if my birthday wasn't so close to Christmas, then I noticed that I didn't get much then either, and then I noticed that it's already the New Year, but DANG! we had us some fun and some high times and some crap and some freaky wierd almost-violent episodes in between! and then it's the same roller-coaster all over again. No one seems to notice the drama...

And then another year has come & gone. It's my birthday again. I'll see them all tomorrow, hopefully, and I'll usher in the holiday season with the usual irritable bowel symptoms.

Love, (wish me luck & happy paradise joy!)
azb

7. ok i'm none of those things really...

...it's AWFUL close to home, though...

Why do I hold my mama accountable for my daddy's shortcomings?
And why not vice versa?
This is one of the most persistently perplexing puzzles in my life.
I spend a great deal of time thinking about this.
I spend a great deal of time thinking about a LOT of things, but I LOVE my mama & daddy, and it seems important still...
I'll definitely be getting back to you soon on this.

Seems like a little distance & space is the very best thing children and parents can give each other.

It's getting dark so suddenly around here! I wish I had a posse of devoted fans; I'd write all the freaking time!

Happy Humpday!
azb

6. redneck white trash elite bookworm pot-head misanthropic Southern Belle

I may change my blog into an even more personal journey.
Anyone willing to ac-c-c...ac-c-c...ac-c-comp...
go with me?
azb

5. what i like about you!

I'm going to keep on talking to people I like about things I enjoy talking about.
I'm going to keep on telling people when I'm uncomfortable talking anymore on a particular subject.
People can treat me exactly the same way.
I'm not going to have relationships with people I can't treat this way.

Tonight I play guitar.
HEY!

4. my first baby's daddy, chapter 1

Easter Sunday, 1981.
It must have been in April that year, cause it was really hot. I've never understood the holiday of our Lord's resurrection...they never can decide just when it was...
In the days when a tan made you look hot, (and we WERE hot. baking your skin in the sun makes you have fever!) Easter Sunday was the first official day of tanning season. After the church and the dinner, you ran home, changed into your swimsuit & cut-offs, & went to the state park with the other redneck kids to usher in another spring of care-free teen-age hijinks. Hopefully, you could run up on some old friends from school, or some 3rd cousins, who had a boat, some beer, and some weed! That would be a perfect Easter!
But not this Easter.
a cousin - yes
a boat - no
some beer - probably
some weed - definitely
and a pleasant suprise!

My cousin, let's call her dk, introduced us. He was her boyfriend's friend. And he was cute!! He asked if I knew his little sister, sp, from school. I LOVED that girl! She was a year younger than I, but she played guitar & sang & shit & just always seemed like a cool, sweet girl. I said "Do you play guitar & shit like her?" and he said "Well a little bit." and I guess it was on then.
We hung out all day.
My cousin called me later & said "You know he's crazy & shit" and I said "What do you mean?" and she said "Well he don't do nothing but sell weed!" and I said "Cool! You mean like your BROTHER?" and she said "He's the guy my brother BUYS his weed from!" and I said "Still cool" or something like that.
He also sold hand-made furniture, but my sister still doesn't believe that...
Now, if anyone will comment on this post, I'll add chapter 2 later this week. It's just getting good...
Art Is The Only Thing That Lasts
azb

3. azatopia

here in the future that should have been; let's call it azatopia:
At the age of ten, girls are injected with a hormone-based implant which is 99.48% effective in preventing pregnancy, prevents menstrual cramps and monthly "flooding" which makes the girl & everyone around her happier in those already-stress-filled-adolescent-years.
Both boys & girls have access to condoms at school, beginning at grade six.
research for the past 30 years since wwIII ended in the computer-generated takeover of all communication & power...oops...I got off-topic!

I'm listening to cockfight club & it makes my mind wander...check 'm out:
www.cockfightclub.net
Anyhow...
Moralists' and racists' and homophobic's worst fears following the passage of the New World Democracies' (nwd's) First International Birth Rights (fibr) laws: that children, given free access to safe-sex paraphenalia, and open-minded sex education - from both a scientific AND emotional point of view - would turn the suburbs into a little sodom-on-the-playground!! - havn't came true.
Very, very few kids in the sixth grade ever take advantage of this set-up.
One statistic remaining virtually unchanged since recorded history: kids are still having their first "significant sexual encounter" at the age of 16-18.
They've never been able to stop this. It's hormonal, it's natural.
I hope this posts, I've had a very idea-filled weekend (no kiddies, well just the big one for a little while! what fun!!) and my browser I think was having trouble so I'm trying again now.
Wish me luck!
Happy Sunday!
azb

2. fingers too cold to play guitar

My hands have been cold all day, and my fingers would freeze up in a "d" formation, but I can still type.
I can type all day, if I have to. I miss the days when a "boss" would have a "secretary" type him up a letter or presentation. They don't need us for that anymore.
My mama was a secretary in an insurance company. I used to love watching her type on that electric typewriter. Her long, slim, well-manicured fingers flying purposefully across the keys, eyes never leaving the page she was copying from. She NEVER made mistakes!
I don't know if they even made white-out then, but she didn't need it!
I couldn't figure that shit out, I mean the letters were in NO discernible order!
I took "Typing 1" in the ninth grade, and as soon as I could type a complete sentence, I noticed I started THINKING in type-writing! It was fun! I'd actually type out my thoughts while going to sleep, or on the school bus.
I'm sure I've had other people tell me they did that too, but I can't remember.
If you now or have ever had your thoughts typing out in your head, write me a comment & let me know.
Otherwise, I'll just think this is another way the "voices" are trying to get through to me.
Thanks for letting me type. I"ll play my guitar tomorrow.
love,
azb

1. 5 reasons

1. because it's almost like being alone; maybe better.
2. because he makes beautiful art.
3. because he only pressures me to be independent.
4. because I trust him.
5. because he just generally rocks, in every way.

He probably won't read this, so don't tell him I said this crap!

www.cockfightclub.net