the hourglass

I ponder the people
in the afternoon frenzy,
they dash down the sidewalk-
bumping into each other,
too much in a hurry
to murmur polite pardons.
Sensing the grains of the hourglass,
they quicken their pace,
while the rush of their blood
hastens as deadlines grow closer.
But what will they feel
when the realization strikes
that these grains,
that are finite and precious,
are few?
What of the deadlines,
so faithfully kept,
when there will be
no more giddy children to delight in,
no more passionate embraces,
no spring picnics to share with a friend,
no more Sunday afternoons graced by
windchimes and hummingbirds?
What of these deadlines then?
The sand flows
unheeded by regrets.
What more is a lifetime
than a minute too short?

come and knock on our door...

i've always been a real live and let live girl. if it weren't for extremes, how would we know where the middle lies?

and sometimes, you meet people or are thrown into situations with people who drive you up the bloody wall. for this period of my life it's my neighbor. we all know the saga of the crazy lady.

you remember three's company? ahhhh hhhaaaa.

my beloved neighbor is a 50 plus Christmas (Chrissy) Snow. she, predicts world politics with astrology and chooses her underwear based on her tea leaves. her most obvious attribute is the high-pitched laughter that resembles crashing crystal reverberating through a back alley. her biggest accomplishment is her ability to pull her foot over her head and drag her dining room table across the room at 5:45 am.

when she talks to you, she presses her hands together and persistently responds by bobbing and saying namaste. in fact, she's highy reminiscent of the old bobbing birds that sat in the back of a car window dropping endlessly over into the water and bouncing up as if surprised. drinking bird

strangely, after a conversation with her, i sort of want to be a conservative bruiser. she makes me want to hide my recycling lest we have one more thing in common.

lamps to live with...

one of my interests is interior design. if i could shop all day and night to decorate your house, i would. i'd happily go without food or sleep, well at least without sleep, in order set you up within your budget.

i enjoy rolling in fabric and ahhing and ohhing over paint swatches and furniture. and good grief, don't even take me near the rugs. i'm a little more like a five year old in a candy store than a suave, chic decorator. i run with more bohemian sorts who love me even if i take off my shoes to swish around on the tripple shag carpet.

i like moving, just because i like to nest. i have seasonal boxes that help me keep from spending too much and i have sketches of possible floor plans, which in a studio is limited.

anyway. someone told me that they work in this store. and i looked up this store cuz i was curious. and my pulse quickened and i broke out into a light sweat. ohhhh ahhhh the pretties. and then i saw them... lamps. and i remembered these.

there is a nifty little store in savannah called the paris market. they have FANTASTIC things. i bought my way over-priced, but stunning umbrella there.... but they have these lamps. one day, i will go back to savannah, have a cup of tea at the gryphon tea room and then i will buy these lamps and come home. it will be very satisfying.

click the post title... (gotta work this out.)

i must have done something really awful in my past life

Periodically, Karma likes to knock on my door and remind me of the impermanent nature of all things.

But, sometimes it comes with a simultaneous lesson of Karma that you just can't get past and permanence seems to be its only quality.

Let me clarify.

Impermanence. I've grown to fancy myself a bit of a photographer. But, just the other day, the cleaning Nazi in me kicked in. I decided to get rid of some duplicate photos because I keep finding that iPhoto has duplicate files EVERYWHERE!

I had over 30 gigs in photos and I decided it was time to get the ducks in a row. What I learned was that it does matter which file you try to trash. I lost a good 6,000 photos and my iPhoto is now moving like molasses in February.

Impermanence. Learn to let go of the photos, kid. I know this logically, and yes, I'm feeling the pangs of some loss. But, all in all, it was a lesson learned and I'm quick to get to the clean up stage.

Now the other lesson is more difficult. The other lesson is the monkey on my back. This is rooted worse than a field of dandelions and its only gift is shame.

In this case, Karma has a lovely and ever so delicate way of padding up behind me and whacking me over the head with a cast iron reminder that I cannot leave this behind.

And this is the Karma I hate. Everything that I have ever gained in my life, I would give up to be rid of this.

One day, it may win. And that is my fear.

it gonna take me and you to start this revolution

It's just me, your neighbor. I'm the girl next to you in line at the grocery store. Someone who puts her pants on one leg at a time. Not too much to look at, not a scientific genius or literary laureate. Came from nothing and hoping to be something.

I'm carpooling with my buddy and I tell her my theory.

I'm not much for conspiracy theories, but I do think there can be a degree of truth in them. I know people and I know my own mind. I can see how strong emotions can control you… a little greed or anger can go a long, long way.

NPR is always on in my car, at my desk, and one of my favorite things on tv is the BBC news—bit of news nerd. Knowing that about me, you can guess that even when I'm not consciously listening, the nut case in the back of my head is listening. That little nut in the back row tosses up information occasionally—not always complete thoughts, but enough to get the conscious interested.

I'm telling Missy--remember what happened with Enron? And with the electric companies in California? How they orchestrated the rolling black outs? And Halliburton? How about those non-existent weapons of mass destruction? Whatever happened to Colin Powell?

I'm also thinking about the phone monopolies and some of the other major corporate crap the country went through… and I'm remembering The Jungle and the grip of the company store.

I continue with Missy… I don't want to sound like a crank, but I've been putting two and two together. I think it won't be long before we hear something about the gas companies.

Yes, she agrees.

What do we do? How long do you think people can go on like this? I'm near the breaking point. I can't be alone. I'm just not sure where to start.

click the post title...

side stop at the workshop

before gas shot up in price, i used to get into my car and drive anytime i was upset. the madder i might be, the farther i drove. oh, the stories. once on one of these venting sessions, i learned five dixie chick songs. i'd never listened to them, so i stopped at a walmart, bought the cd and drove until earl's gotta die had its own grove in my head.

one of my favorite places to drive was jeff city. the most i ever did was get out of my car, walk around the capital and drive back. that's it. and i came home completely defused. weird, i know.

yesterday, i went to jeff city for a belly dance workshop. i figured that since i was there christening the city with positive energy, i might as well takes some pics further changing what jeff city means to me.

click the title to see what i saw...

thanks princeton

So according to Princeton, I should be looking for a Blue/Yellow job. How much do you think that pays? Is advancement Green?


People with blue Interests like job responsibilities and occupations that involve creative, humanistic, thoughtful, and quiet types of activities. Blue Interests include abstracting, theorizing, designing, writing, reflecting, and originating, which often lead to work in editing, teaching, composing, inventing, mediating, clergy, and writing.


People with yellow styles perform their job responsibilities in a manner that is orderly and planned to meet a known schedule. They prefer to work where things get done with a minimum of interpretation and unexpected change. People with a yellow style tend to be orderly, cautious, structured, loyal, systematic, solitary, methodical, and organized, and usually thrive in a research-oriented, predictable, established, controlled, measurable, orderly environment. You will want to choose a work environment or career path in which your style is welcomed and produces results.

the light ahead

A light with no point
Of origin or destination
That glows brightly
For no one to see
A light in the forest
On the sea in a fog
Showing the way
For no lost traveler
A light alone
In a dark room
Joyful and loving
Warm and caring
A light in the void
Teetering
Collapsing
In on itself and
Grasping
A sun that grows dim.

kymberlieblu's burlesque review...

Get that feather boa out of the bottom of your closet and slip it through your fingers. You know you want to slide it over your shoulder and do a little shoulder shimmy. So what's holding you back?

I took my first burlesque class tonight and I've got to say… I loved it.

I didn't know what to expect and I think that helped. When I arrived one of the students was working out a routine to Billy Idol's White Wedding—in a tricked out wedding dress, of course. That might have had me backing out the door six years ago, but I've seen many a belly dancer iron out the kinks prior to a beginning class. Instead of being intimidated, it actually gave me a sort peep into the behind the scenes and showed me where I could take this if I really dig it.

The teacher, Lola, is a beaming ray of energy and enthusiasm. She taught us a couple dances with quick and simple choreographies. Very encouraging and full of tips, this girl is not only a beauty in three-inch heels, she completely disarms you and makes you feel like you've known her forever.

The class was small and varied even with four students. Besides me, there was another newbie who is taking the pole dancing class and two girls fresh off their first performance. The lights were low, the music was rich and the boas were plentiful.

However, if you think it's all swivels hips and head snaps without some sweat, you're sadly mistaken. I had a flash back to the first year that I belly danced. I remember how I used to struggle to make the movements look like the teacher and how I used to sweat. Lord, how I sweat tonight! You're using muscles differently and slowly. Just like in belly dancing—it looks like yeah, I could do that. And then you do it and cry in the morning when you try to move. This is a fabulous workout.

Overall? This is going to compliment my belly dancing beautifully. I can see it helping me with stage presence, confidence and the all-important… listen to the music! It really is invigorating, empowering and just plain sexy-fun.

As children, lots of us played dress up and strutted and danced and sang and were a star. In this class, I'm not just a star, but also a pinup girl with sexy heels, slinky gloves and a so-soft boa. Turn up the music!

on the balcony

one of the very nice things about my tiny little home is my balcony. it isn't much, only about 3 x 8 feet. but, it makes a world of impact. the first thing i do when i get home is throw open the french doors and look over the rooftops into the sky. this door into the sky makes my little studio feel like the biggest home in the world.

and, one of the treats that i'm enjoying tonight, is the music. i'm about three blocks from schlafly's in maplewood. the construction of the world between me and their parking lot is perfect because it pipes the music up to my door.

last month during the bbq i heard some great bands and i got some work done at the same time. for a girl on a budget--i get live music almost every night. how can that be anything but a benefit!?

to tat or not to tat?

i'm thinkin' bout a tat.

can't wait to share that with mom on her birthday tomorrow. when she asks, "what's new with you?"

"i'm thinking about getting some crack candy."

even at 41, shocking my mom is possible and fun.

but, really. i am seriously considering it. i absolutely love the way a belly dance costume looks with a really nice tat rising up the back.

i like peacocks as of late. perhaps something in that vein.

don't have a single tat on me....hmmmmmm

changing my mind...

when i was in high school, i used to dream about living in a warehouse and having a jeep, a motorcycle, a ferrari and a van with an image painted on the side--a blonde with a black panther (i also used to be very blonde). of course, everything was black.

i've changed my mind. i'd like to skip the van entirely and have a 69 marcos 1800.

let's keep everything black, okay?

inspired on the flyway...

Deathly afraid of fear
The first to say no,
The second to go.

One-twenty on the flat,
Make it rattle then strike
Chasing black storms
Singing too loud and
Dancing for myself.

Climb too high,
Laugh too loud
Tease too much,
Give in too often.

Gripping the edge,
The good girl goes home.