A Drop of Heaven

I woke up yesterday, but it wasn't where I had originally laid down. I was somewhere not of a place or time, but somewhere. It was peaceful there, warm and inviting. I was home.

An angel stood before me. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. He didn't have wings or a halo. Jesus, the Lord and Savior himself? I don't know. There are two depictions of Jesus Christ- the first is the image that everyone has come to know and identify with so well, and the other is Him as a black man which is rarely seen. If those two images were combined in into a celestial bliss, that was Him. I call him my Angel.

He extended His hand to me and I didn't hesitate to accept, and he slowly lifted me to a standing position. I stood but there was no ground. Where were my legs? I knew I never had any. But I stood. The wheelchair that I had stood up from faded into the darkness behind me. The tunnel? It was very dark, cold, distant, a place I wouldn't want to go. I could stand.

Beyond this angel and all around was a brilliant light, rays shining in all directions. It was brighter than any sunny morning and much warmer. But my eyes held true without so much as a wince. Within the rays was a span of clouds arched around me in a single line. There were sounds coming from those clouds, many as if they were floods of voices of a crowded restaurant. They weren't clouds. They were people, dozens if not hundreds of them. I knew them all. I was related to some of them if not many or all of them. Beside me and just behind my right shoulder was a presence I knew all too well. My dad.

I didn't blink nor did I look around. I stood eye to eye with my Angel yet I was aware of everything around me. I spoke but my mouth did not move. "Did you finally come to take me?" I asked. My Angel smiled and in my father's voice I heard "No."

The Angel reached His other hand forward, He never let go of the one He had. I settled my hand in His and at that moment every ailment and every pain I had ever endured seemed to melt away as if flushing down a drain. I threw my head back and with a great sigh of relief I thought "Ahh, that it so much better."

I could think? That didn't seem right. Not for a dream anyway. Out of body experience? But where was I? This was definately not a place on Earth. Premonition? No, that would be an image of future events that was without conscience thought.

I tried to reason it out. Ok, I'm sleeping. I'm at home in Lovington, my body is over there. Where is my body by the way (I had just noticed I was not in it). It has to be morning, maybe mid-morning. The kids have to be up. Do they know I'm dead? Am I dead? Again the voice answered, the voice I have loved and missed so dearly replied, "You're going back."

I thought, "I'm in Heaven. But if this was Heaven shouldn't there be grass and a sky?" I must be the only blonde African American in Heaven. But as that thought crossed my mind my peripheral caught sight of tall grass with daisies. I thought, "Too tall. Looks like it needs to be mowed." (I guess even in Heaven ramdom thinking is a common language.) The grass shortened, a sky appeared. Daisies and dandelions sprung from the ground. Mountains, the mossy greens ones that I think are so pretty. A stream. Birds. I was painting this calm and serene picture and as I did it seemed to materialize before me. Sunsets. I love sunsets. Heaven is the only place where you can see a mid-morning sunset. The sky was sprayed with pastel splashes of blue, violet, orange, and peach. It was magestic.

And still my focus was my Angel. My eyes never left His and all I could do was smile. It was a happiness so grand that it seemed tangible. His eyes sparkled. A twinkle came into them as if Vega appeared in them itself (my favorite star, magnificent sight through a telescope).

The clouds began to take shape but yet lacked a true form. Everything did. Everything was its own contradiction. Shape without form, color without hue. Nothing made sense yet everything made sense. It was beautiful. Not the kind of beaitiful that would describe a newborn or a cosmopolitan model. This was beauty personified. The clouds... My relatives from the days of yore. My dad, my grandma, grandpa, Scruffy! Tabitha! Sam! My animals were there too. Is this Heaven?

My Angel changed, He became clearer and  sharper. But it wasn't Him. My eyes changed. I didn't need glasses no more. No pain. I was in Peace.

Kira needs me. Random thoughts occur at any time. But I wanted to stay. I wasn't afraid. I was engulfed in Joy, surrounded by Love.

Am I breathing? I tried to focus on my pulse but instead a light wind swirled within my spirit. The voices grew louder but yet they sounded like Music. Random thought, "I gotta tell mom." And at that moment a name came to me. Shlazowsky? Skazowsky? I knew it then but can't for the life of me say it now, much less spell it. Life. How ironic.

The smell. I had to remember the smell. Very sweet. Warm. Cookies. Sugar cookies, warm scented as if baking in the oven. Chocolate, very light scent. But I'm allergic to chocolate. Even the smell will induce a reaction. But I wasn't sick. No pain. Flowers. I know these flowers. Not roses. Carnations. I love carnations. The angelic recipe as mixed by Heaven itself, from greatest to least according to my newly heightened sense of smell- baking sugar cookies, carnations, chocolate Hershey's kisses. Perfect, like coming home to a hot apple pie... A la mode.

The scene began to fade. The voices became increasingly distant. My Angel sat me back into my chair and I moved backward, back into the darkness I so dreaded. Bye, Daddy. I love you. My Angel, you are so beautiful. My family, thank you for being there and giving me something to look forward to. I'm not afraid. Not anymore.

I woke up in the great town of Lovington. I ached everywhere, from every bone to every muscle and everywhere in between. My head hurt, my throat hurt. My hands are killing me. Still congested, gotta take my blood pressre pill. My anxiety is up. The kids didn't eat yet. It's 10:30, I gotta get up. Can't move too quickly. I'm nausiated. I can do it.  Wherever I was I longed to go back there. But instead I woke up... And cried.

Dream Warrior

"In the name of Lowreck, Prince of Elves, demon be gone!" I wish it were that easy- a simple spell and all this will go away.

I am going through the atonement, dragging my cross to my final resting place. It is a long, painstaking jouney. I'm tired, I have no fight left in me. My faith is dragging along like the crucifix I'm lugging behind me. I feel beaten and spit on. Just get there already. Heaven can wait; I can't. Eternal bliss? What's that? Happiness is foreign to me, written in a language it seems I will never understand. Depression kills.

I must be cursed, haunted by a demonic spirit. No one should feel this bad for this long. The dark cloud lingers over. It's too heavy, it's cold, it drains me. Silver lining? Nope, haven't seen it. Probably went that way, second star to the left and on til morning.

No word from Kitty, not a peep. I don't care. I must be the booty call. Call someone else, dude. I'm done. I may have been caught up for a minute, but that time has passed. I don't love you. I cared, but that time has passed too. Refer to the Third Rule of Fight Club.

Buddha is my haunting spirit, the demon that dwells within and all around. Demons are described in three ways according to Paul Dale Roberts who wrote of the six types of hauntings:

1. As being angelic, a being of beauty that will manipulate the person to commit something that is sinful or out of the ordinary (Check)

2. Horrific, evil-looking (Check. Sorry Buddha, I hate that pic- the demon pic, you know that one with the horns? Yeah, give me a minute and I'll rip them right outta your skull)

3. Black mist, black fog, black shadow, black smoke. Most demonic hauntings, occupants claim to be followed by black mist or black fog (Well I'd call that a no-brainer)

According to wikiHow there 15 steps to exorcising a demonic spirit:

1. Get connected to the Holy Spirit (Maybe I can google how to do that)

2. Humble yourself (CHECK!)

3. If you have never been baptized by your own personal choice (not as a baby), get baptized fully immersed in water in God's name as a public declaration in front of others (Uh, I gotta work on that)

4. Love others (refer back to the Forth Rule of Fight Club)

5. If you have the power of the Spirit of God living in you, and you know His Word, you are ready to proceed (I'm screwed)

6. Command the demon to be silent in the name of Jesus (I love you, Buddha)

7. If you are not sure that you do have the power of the Spirit living in you (Check), then instead of commanding the demons directly, it is much safer to ask Jesus to command the spirit to be silent, or leave (That should've been Part 2 of Step 5)

8. Using the demon's name(s) command him to leave the victim (by name) in the name of Jesus! (What if I really am my own worst enemy? Is there a protocol for that?)

Now for a brief intermission....

I went outside for a smoke. Damn, I seriously need to quit that habit. When your only pleasure in life is lighting up to a mentholated cancer stick filled with arsenic and nicotine, that's a problem.

A lady bug landed next to the front left tire of my chair. I stopped and stared at it and I thought "God is with me. He's listening." It flew away almost as fast as it came. I looked up and a butterfly flew over my head, rather close enogh that I would normally dodge it from touching me. I didn't move, and like the lady bug, it flew away as fast as it had come.

Lord... Dude, can you please give me a moment to wallow in my self-pity? Por favor. I would really appreciate it. Muchas gracias, in the name of the Son, the Ghost and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Where was I? Ah, yes...

9. Don't do this alone (How ironic, hence the lady bug and the butterfly, right?)

10. Begin to worship God (That should've been Step 1)

11. Boldly an out loud, lay you hands on everything that you wish to be sanctified and pray over those things (My heart, the demon picture, or both?)

12. If it seems that the demon came back or never left don't be fooled. (Elaborate) It is another demon trying to get you to doubt Jesus and be afraid (Check)

13. Be aware that if the person being freed does not give their life to Jesus, the evil spirits can return and bring their friends (That explains everything)

14. There are many entry points that give demons legal rights to enter or re-enter you (Elaborate please) False pride/arrogance, sex outside marriage, childhood sexual victimization, materialism, violence, violent martial arts, anger, theft, murder, abortion, addictions, lust, pornography, unholy entertainment, mysticism, channeling, Ouija boards, fortune telling, praying to nature or idols, horoscopes, psychics, seances, oaths, unrighteous words, self-hatred, judgement of others, greed, slander, resentment, sloth and unrighteous soul ties from ancestors. All of these can be washed clean with prayer (Let's see... One... Two... Three... Damn, 25! The childhood sexual victimization doesn't require forgiveness but I kinda figured that)

15. Remember that Jesus resisted the devil three times with the Word of God in Matthew 4:4, 7, 10

And so it is, the 15 Steps to Performing A Christian Exorcism as explained by wikiHow. Did I mention I'm Catholic?

My next Bing searches as powered by Google: how to remove a curse, love spells to capture his heart forever, how to be happy, curing depression, and what does a blinking yellow light mean on an 83 inch flat screen tv.

Fifth Rule of Fight Club: Nothing is what it seems

(Eh hem) loving-TON

"Death is dwelling on the past or staying in one place to long." Whoever wrote the script for Mermaids obviously had Lovington in mind. This place is deader than dead, a cemetary for the greedy workaholics, zombied out in the abyss of oil fields. There's no life here, not like California. Lovington is death.

My sister told me there are no seasons here. Dirt and cows. She texted me a picture once while she was on the road- an ocean of dirt with a cow crossing the road. Why did the cow cross the road? Cause the chicken was smart enough not to be here dammit.

Well, that's not entirely accurate. There is a KFC here. Ja went there once, just once, and told me there was a chicken head in the mix and a feather I believe. I forget where she said she ate (it was take-out, of course), but she was somewhere where there were chickens clucking around the yard. Yeah I can see how that could be rather disturbing. I haven't been there. We get KFC from Hobbs.

Hobbs, there's another winner for you. Southeast New Mexico is not the place to be. Sounds like a Stephen King movie. Didn't he write In The Mouth of Madness? Not sure. Hobbs End- sounds accurate enough.

It's actually much better than Lovington. There's a decent movie theater, JC Penny's, some form of mall, a bowling alley, and any place that has a Walmart is alright in my books. But I've heard it's gangster town. I haven't seen any gang activity, much less heard of any, but nonetheless I'm not there long enough to find out. I stick to the cemetary. It's dead here.

I did visit the Inn...twice. The first time my sis and I went with our neighbor to watch him karaoke. He worked there. I think I counted more fingers on one hand than there were in the bar. Just sad. The DJ, Tone Deaf, sang too. My stomach hurt, my head hurt, tears soaked my shirt. You have not lived til you've heard the Southeast New Mexico, country ass, monotoned sung version of Henry the VIIIth I Am. It was a Wednesday. Just sad.

But I did go back. My 40th birthday was that Saturday. I didn't want a cake, I didn't even want to know that day was glaring me in the eyes. I was staring down the barrel of old age. More greys? Nah, I'm cool. Drink it off Mish.

It's boring, I'm in the inertia of my life and it's going nowhere. Stuck in limbo, caught up in the Land of Entrapment, as dead as this town. Lovington is death.

So I write, not about anything specific, just passing time sprouting new and improved grey hairs and wondering what tomorrow will bring. Ok, I can't lie. I know what tomorrow will bring... Absolutely nothing. But I don't know what the weather will be like. Something to look forward to. Ha!

Ja said there were no seasons here. Summer, winter, spring and fall don't exist. Randomness, that can always be counted on. In a three day period it was sunny, cloudy, high wind, dust storm, foggy (blowing, breezy fog at that), rainy and snowy. And that about sums up that weather report. Random.

On the drive back here from California my nephew and I stopped by this rest area, slash tour information some such crap. They had a visitor's guide of the attractions and tourist places to visit. It was categorized in relation to the northeast, northwest, southeast and southwest corners of New Mexico. You guessed it. I looked for Lovington. Brief sentence, something about coming by on a certain day of the year to see the cowboy culture and what not. Uh... Where? I've been here a year and have seen no such thing. I think there was a rodeo. I missed it. Maybe that's what they were talking about. Just sad.

I went to the fairgrounds for Cindo de Mayo. Ja and I went. Our neighbor Becky told us it was going on over there. We went, dressed up and ready for some form of entertainment. Lovington sucks, it's dead. But having it going on? We were there.

Red flag #1: Any fairground parking lot where you can see the only golden arches overlooking the area like a lion to his pride and kindom is probably not good.

Red flag #2: There are more cars at the Walmart parking lot in Hobbs on any given day than there were in the parking lot that night.

Red flag #3: People were leaving.

Red flag #4: Not a soul near the gates.

We sat in the parking lot in the truck for an extended period of time, eating McDonald's and hesistant to exit the vessel. Becky had Bug with her. Dammit. We went in. There was nothing. The deeper in we went, the sadder it got. The music from beyond finally caught our ears. Mexican country what?

In the back was an open area. Some people were dancing. There was a band. We didn't see Becky and the kids (not that we really looked). We left. Between entering the gates and leaving them was no more than two minutes, and that's being generous. Just sad.

We did hit the street fair. Downtown, a band from the 70's was there. We knew one song, forgot the band, forgot the name of the song. Just sad. We went to sell lighted ballons and showlaces. Did pretty good. The highlight of that event was counting the cash we made. Just sad.

If you're ever in New Mexico come down and visit Lovington where you can experience real cowboy culture. You'd be better off watching Young Guns or The Magnificent Seven, but what the hell, you're in the area! Come relax and enjoy the silence of the only ghost town with a pulse. Go Wildcats!

Lovington is death.

God has a sick sense of humor

What a turn of events!

I was reading over my last post. I write kinda good. I was rather impressed. I've always wanted to be a novelist- the writer extraordinaire. I wrote a book once, Ja and I did. Well, Ja did a couple of pages but she helped me think up a lot of it. A Taste of Everything- romance novel by Mish and Ja. We tried to get it published but the publishing company was triffling apparently. Not legit. That's life.

It's been a few days. I still haven't heard from Kitty. A heavy dust warning came in, I texted him to be safe driving, he replied "K." Now that's communication gone wild.

But that's not where my mind was....

Today is Tuesday. I texted Kitty Sunday night saying "Nite nite miss u." First time that he never responded. But he had his kids. I'm sure he was busy, maybe in the shower, possibly fell asleep. I went to bed and asked God to give me a sign if Kitty was the one. Nothing fancy or extravagent. I went to bed thinking I would have a missed call or message. I was right...

...But it wasn't from him.

Who in the world would call me at 2 in the morning? According to the text it was 2:19 am. "Sorry to call so late." I had a clue, yet it had been months since I last heard from him. Couldn't be. Much less would he leave a text after the missed call.

I saw it when I woke to get the kids up for school. The usual "Who's this?" But it was too early so a few hours later I texted again "Hello?"

U want what? Naked pics? Who the hell was this? I didn't recognize the number. Call me Daddy followed by what my name is? Mama. Dude wanted to play that game. I can play too. Come with it.

Freaking Buddha, man. Ready to have me drive to Cali to hurt someone. I knew it was him as much as my head tried to deny it. Was this the sign I so requested from God? Next time I'll be more specific. God tends to have a sick sense of humor when you ask something so vague from Him. I meant is KITTY the one I was meant to be with. Maybe the answer would have been the same. If anything, God is consistent.

It took me two years to get over Buddha; another two of a peaceful life without him. I found him on Facebook back in November. Just looking. Had been dreaming about him but in my dreams I didn't know it was him. Strange. He has this pic on his profile- a Halloween pic- that just drives me up the wall. He sent it to me during this goofy who-is-this convo. Anyways...

Instead of leaving his page I clicked Request Friend. Oops. But he doesn't do the computer thing so no big deal. Undo and all's well with the world. Less than a minute, he accepted. Nice.

Took a few hours. Say hi? Thanks for the add? What's up? Delete friend? Short message. Hope all is well and yada yada, something like that. He gave me his number. I gave him mine. He called.

That lasted a couple of months. I knew he'd disappear eventually, change his number, the usual. Last time we talked, few days after New Year's, he said he was moving with some girl. Don't call or text. No prob.

We had a heart-to-heart last night. I wanted or rather needed to know why he does this- gets in contact with me than runs off. What do you want, dude? But I had been thinking of him for days now, just out of nowhere. Didn't have quite the conversation I rehearsed for.

"I think I could be happy with you." A tear fell. I knew I felt the same. Couldn't deny it to myself anymore. We talked about taking it slow this time, see if it'll work. I'm ready. I need love and he is the only man I have ever truly loved. I'm scared he'll disappear. Confusion's a bitch, ain't it?

What about Kitty? Still no word, not even a good morning. He'll call, probably when he's horny. It must just be a sex thing so that's just how I'm gonna treat it.

I love you, Buddha. I always have. But I gotta be neutral about this. If you go, fly out. If you stay, I will always treasure you. Got a few more months til I'm in the area. I plan to kick it with Kitty again. Got needs too. But as you so lovingly stated, I won't put all my eggs in one basket (my cousin said the same words when I told her. Freaky). My heart is with you, my body with him, and world continues to spin. Que sera sera...

Forth Rule of Fight Club: Love no one!

To Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything, M.L.

I should become a drag queen, but I think I have to be male to do that. Good movie by the way (I'm a big movie buff but you will soon learn that). Had I followed the "3 steps to utter fabulousness" sooner, I'd be cured by now.

Depression is a killer. You don't wanna do shit, got no energy, and life in general just sucks. You dwell on the negative and can't find any positive around. So much for the silver lining. Even on the sunniest of days it always seems to rain.

Step 1 to becoming a queen: Think good thoughts for your sword and shield

Such a tude, good Lord! I finally verified it last night. Ja has got it in for me right now, for a few days now actually. I thought she was giving me space cause of my sinus infection but nope, the tude is in effect. And for what? How did I all of a sudden become the designated asshole in this scenario? I told Drew I noticed it. He said yeah and something about the counseling section. Wow... And once again, new chapter.

So when shit sits heavy in your heart it tends to keep you in a stink. I could blame it on New Mexico- the Land of Entrapment, come on vacation leave on probation. There was another but I forget what it is. It's horrible here. At least compared to California it is. Lovington? What kind of name is that for a hole in the wall town? Nothing loving about it. I call it Ton.

I'm in a stink but surprisingly not as bad as I would normally get. Depression's a killer. I hate being where I don't feel wanted. Funny, I always find myself where I'm needed but never where I'm wanted. Mama wants me. I miss you girl.

So I was down to feeling worthless again, useless and without reason or purpose. I don't work, can't work- not with being sick all the damn time. I'm broke, on social security. What good am I? What would Kitty want with someone like me? My credit is jacked. Thanks Lexi (I loved that car). Wheelchair, fat, just useless. But I'm not that upset. Not like I should be. Progress...

Step 2 to Utter Fabulousness: Ignore adversity

Love- now there's a reason. I could be a wife. Sure I would marry him. Well, I wouldn't due to the credit factor, but I could be a live-in girlfriend. I would be the one to love him, the one who would greet him every night after work with a hug, a kiss and a smile. I would miss him when he's gone and text cute little messages to him. Maybe some pics to show him how much I miss him. Yeah, be the lady in the street and his dirty whore in the sheets. I would get up to pack his lunch for the day and have dinner ready when he got home. Laundry done, shopping done, clean the house. I won't be mommy to his kids. They have one. But I can be Auntie Misha. I've earned that title time and again. I would make love to him whenever and however he wanted. I'd never complain or nag. What for? I'd have love. And love is motivation.

I try to clean up here. I do but it's more effort than I have. I don't know what everyone wants to eat here. I do laundry. It gets put away on everyone else's time. The kids mess up more than I clean up. Don't have the strength. Depression kills. Ja needs Robster. She deserves to be happy.

Indeed Step 3: Abide by the rules of love

Love is motivation. Love is happiness. I never had it. I need it.

Third Rule of Fight Club: Fuck 'em and fuck 'em

I Need Love

When I'm alone in my room sometimes I stare at the wall

And in the back of my mind I hear my conscience call

Telling me I need a [guy] who's as sweet as a dove

For the first time in my life I see I need love

There I was giggling about the games

That I had played with many hearts and I'm not saying no names

Then a thought occurred, tear drops made my eyes burn

Cause I said to myself look what you've done to [him]

I can feel it inside, I can't explain how it feels

All I know is that I'll never dish another raw deal

Playing make believe, pretending that I'm true

Holding in my laugh as I say that I love you

Saying amor, kissing you on the ear

Whispering I love you and I'll always be here

Although I often reminisce I can't believe that I found

A desire for true love floating around

Inside my soul because my soul is cold

One half of me deserves to be this way til I'm old

But the other half needs affection and joy

Ans the warmth that is created by a girl and a boy...

They're gonna revoke my membership for this. What happened to the Club dammit? The first member- oh Lord, new chapter- and the other got married. That's right Mama! Say something now! That leaves me. Just me. Riding solo. I need a new posse. But what I really need is...

No! Nope! Hell no! Can't say it. I may feel it but feelings, having feelings, really sucks especially when you don't know how the other person feels. Loves enhances women; broken hearts create bitches. Wouldn't you agree Buddha? It's all your fault. Yes you. I gotta blame someone for this. You're the only man I ever truly from the depths of my soul really loved and the closest I ever came to, eh hem, making love. Well, at least til now. Miss you Kitty!

At least I'm over the Sagitarrian Sickness. I have been bombarded by Sagitarrian men, and every man who caught my attention was a hispanic Sagitarrius. Well, the hispanic part still sticks. Hispanic men- the Latin Lovers- are the most passionate and know how to take care of their women. I have a new fixation- the Leo.

I'm writing constantly now, mainly in my head. Words are flowing effortlessly as if they are writing themselves. I was working on the kitchen, mentally scribing my next blog, and still I think of him.

He's got this big ol' beer belly and when he lays on his side the arch from his stomach to his knees looks like a crescent moon, well, more like a c-clamp. I love chunky men, men with meat. I used to date the slim jims, the male adonises; but since Buddha that notion is almost grotesque. I'm down with the thickness- those big, warm snuggle bears. Whew! A skinny guy? I may as well be holding myself. I love my Kitty! Oops, did I just say that? You know what I meant.

Do I LOVE Kitty? No, not yet at least. It's hard for me to open my heart. As of now he's the only man I'm attracted to and I am treating this as if I was committed to him. If it all works out, "We asked Myisha if she has been with any other man since Kitty. She said no and the lie detector determined... She is telling the truth." I love Maury, mostly on Repeat Offender Day- that's when all those women who were 1000% sure their baby's dad was such-n-such come back to test someone else.

I'm laying down but I need to do Round 2 in the kitchen. In a couple hours I will be laying here again with my baby girl next to me. How am I gonna sleep? I wish I was in his arms. It felt so good to cuddle up with him.

Random thought #146: I was curled up with Kitty. I roll over frequently cause I love when my chest is pressed up against his while my head is resting in his chest and my arm carressing his back; but I love when my back is against him with his arms wrapped around me. I had my back to him. Now I have a big back (and stomach, thunder thighs, but that's another story), and I happened to notice that my ass fits so nicely in the nook of his lap- that c-clamp I described. And I thought, "yup, like a hand to a glove."

He sleeps in the buff and so do I, so his penis was lodged in my ass crack. It's hard to sleep with him. He excites me to no end. He had to work today and he had just went to sleep. I didn't mean to wake him. Ok, I didn't intend to wake him. I didn't wanna wake him? Still not right. Ok, I felt bad for waking him. Not right either cause it was good, trust and believe. Uh, he had to work, it was late and the correct response should have been to let him sleep. Yeah, there it is.

I wanna call Buddha (random thought). I wanna know what happened between us, I mean what really happened. His life was so chaotic and I understood that and that's a major factor in our demise, but I'm no angel. The only common factor in all my failed relationships is me. I don't want to make that repeated mistake again so any insight would be lovely. Buddha's easy to talk to, a good friend when he's around. Fun to talk to. I miss him, the friendship that is. As far as anything else is concerned I got over that two year ago. "I need a woman like you in my life." What a crock of shit. I'll never forget him saying that. Kitty or no Kitty, that's a done deal.

Do I LOVE Kitty? Did I answer that yet? Oh Lord, 40 is seriously kicking in. Damn phone. How do I scroll up on this thing? No, not yet. I love the sex that's for sure. He's great but I'm just gonna wait and see what happens. I didn't plan to stay in New Mexico forever and he lives two hours away in Texas. Cool drive by the way. We're gonna remain "friends" til further notice, or at least until we know how we feel. Time will tell. No rush. But he's awesome. Highly interested, that's the word(s).

Call Me Maybe? What kind of title is that for a song? Bug is watching YouTube, Wipeout is on tv, Drew's phone is ringing "ring-a-ding ding da ding da ding ding" (it's a cute little tune). It's after 7, the kids are going out soon to play hide and seek and I gotta hit the kitchen a second time and Ja will be home soon. I need a smoke but it sure feels good to write again. That's inspiration. Thanks Kitty. I miss you baby. Is that information he needs at this juncture...? junction in time? I tell him, he says the same. It almost replaces the I love you thing. Better cut that out. Stick to the plan.

Second rule of Fight Club: Do NOT talk about Fight Club!

Purrrrrr......

The air is heavy here. Maybe it's me. Nah, it's eveything. It seems everytime I get sick things just seem to go to hell. Am I a plague or something? I'm just getting over another sinus infection and my jaw had been hurting for nearly a week. But not now, not since last night. I read that endorphines are natural pain killers and I think I can honestly validate that statement. I can't stop thinking about him...

It's been a month since I seen him, my Kitty. Last go round, or should I say the first go round was February 2nd, the eve of Super Bowl XLVII- 49ers vs The Ravens (the Ravens won even though I was routing for the 9ers, but who gave a shit, I was euphoric). We had met only a few days before but something was there- a connection. That was the night I made love for the first time. He was so gentle yet so passionate. I was lost in his embrace and his kiss was beyond compare.

But hurricane Mish struck again. After that night he became distant and reserved. I hated it. I was flooded with a line of texts that either read "thanx" or "ok." Not once did he say he had a good time or acknowlege how he felt about that night. So it emerged, the bluntness, the psycho-babble bullshit that is known to send many heading for higher ground- real talk, the workings of the female mentality.

I called him less than a week ago, an accident really. Somehow when my cell is charging and I start farting around on it it will make random phone calls and twacked out texts...

Twacked (v.)- Mish's contraction of the english verbs "trippin" and "whacked," both meanings referring that either something or a situation is not right; weird; not working properly; any event beyond reason and comprehension, etc.

...so I texted him. What else could I do? There obviously was a missed call from me after what, three weeks of radio silence? So I sent him a hi, hope all is well, and apologized for my behavior. I missed him. "Who's this?" He deleted my number? Fucker! But then again so did I. So how did my phone randomly call a number not in contacts? Yup, twacked!

I was so nervous that I actually went into a panic. I had a moderate dizzy spell, my chest hurt, my jaw was killing me, I shouldn't have driven. But I wanted to see him, be in his arms one more time. I didn't want to lose him. I guess it was fear that made me push him away but now the Morning After Syndrome was kicking my ass... More like beating it.

Yeah those endorphines work wonders. He felt so great and had the intensity and passion from before. This time was slightly different. He was more dominating, forceful and all that other primal aggression that I crave. But he was still loving and gentle at the same time. My Lion King, sign of the Leo, my Kitty.

I love my girl. She keeps it so real. Bitch! I tell her everything but she somehow knows more about me than what I tell her. "It takes a real man to be a pussy dammit!" But she and her husband are both leos so I give her all the juicy details. (I'm digging on this guy, seriously.) Kitty lets me pet him- a scratch behind his ear or on top of his head, a belly rub- and he purrs.

As I laid on his chest I nibbled at his chin. His mustache migrated. It went from a landing strip over his upper lip to a weeping willow neating trimmed on the base of his chin. I looked at him, he smiled; yet in the back of my mind I pictured him wearing dark shades while strumming a guitar singing La Bamba. Or maybe I just associated the weeping willow with Los Lobos.

The kids are supposed to be cleaning the bedroom. There's a futon mattress in the middle of the floor in which they decided to zip themselves into the mattress cover inside the mattress itself. They screamed for help. No one came to the rescue, not right away anyway. Justin called out the most. His voice will hopefully be gone by tomorrow. A good ten minutes or so and I peaked in. They really were stuck- couldn't get their tiny fingers far enough out of the hole to reach thw zipper. How did she manage to close it to begin with? Way to go Bug. I laughed.

And still I cannot stop thinking about him. My daughter and nephew apparently need adult supervision and I can't get this man's penis out of head. I can hear her now, "Honey, your just feeling an intense emotional kind of feeling because you just had really good sex and now you're euphoric. Don't mix up sex and love. Remember the Fight Club." Shut up Kim! Bitch! We studied psychology together so we tend to sling the psycho-babble-yada-yada back and forth to each other. Yeah, I know you too, as well as you know me.

What am I doing? Do I really need any romantix hassles, much less feelings for a man I'm banging? He's wonderful. He makes me feel alive. I want it to work but I have broken the golden rule- DO NOT GIVE IT IP RIGHT AWAY. MAKE HIM WAIT. Whoops. So what's a girl to do? Bitch it up, get him sprung and play his game on your turf. I call it "I win."

First rule of Fight Club: You don't talk about Fight Club...